THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


0No  Palmouth      Mashpte 


CAPE   COD  .BAY 


OLD  CAPE  COD 
THE  LAND:  THE  MEN:  THE  SEA 


THE  OLD  FIGUREHEAD 


OLD  CAPE  COD 

THE  LAND  :  THE  MEN 

THE  SEA 

BY 

MARY  ROGERS  BANGS 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

n$$  CambriDge 
1920 


COPYRIGHT,    1920,   BY   MARY   ROGERS   BANGS 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


F 

•1  ^ 
/A- 


TO 

S.  A.  B. 


CONTENTS 

I.  THE  LAND  1 

II.  THE  OLD  COLONY  19 

III.  THE  TOWNS  56 

IV.  THE  FRENCH  WARS  97 
V.  THE  ENGLISH  WARS  118 

VI.  THEOLOGY  AND  WTIIALING  158 

VII.  STORMS  AND  PIRATES  176 

VIII.  OLD  SEA  WAYS  203 

IX.  THE  CAPTAINS  221 

X.  THE  COUNTY  259 

XI.  GENIUS  Loci  291 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  OLD  FIGUREHEAD  Frontispiece 

THE  SHORE  ROAD  6 

A  FIRST  COMER  58 

THE  CREEK  112 

THE  FISH-HOUSE  164 

THE  CAP'N'S  222 

THE  MEADOWS  270 

THE  PASTURE  BARS  294 


The  end-paper  maps  are  (1)  a  modern  map  of  Cape  Cod  and 
(2)  a  facsimile  of  a  part  of  Captain  Cyprian  Southack's 
map  (see  page  192) 


OLD  CAPE  COD 

•         • 
• 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  LAND 


CAPE  COD  had  its  Age  of  Romance  in  a  half-century 
best  placed,  perhaps,  in  the  years  between  1790  and 
1840.  Then  certainly  the  picture  of  it  was  charming: 
a  picture  unblemished  by  the  paper-box  architecture 
of  a  later  period,  or  the  alien  hotels,  the  villas,  bun- 
galows, and  portable-houses  of  to-day.  Then  roads, 
with  no  necessity  laid  upon  them  to  be  the  servants 
of  speed,  were  honest  native  sand,  and,  gleaming  like 
yellow  ribbons  across  hills  and  meadows,  linked  farm 
to  farm  and  went  trailing  on  to  the  next  township 
where  houses  nestled  behind  their  lilacs  in  a  sheltered 
hollow,  or  stood  four-square  on  the  village  street.  As 
if  by  instinct,  the  early  settlers  from  Saugus  and 
Scituate  and  Plymouth,  accustomed  as  their  youth 
had  been  to  the  harmonies  of  Old  England,  hit  upon 
a  style  of  building  best  suited  to  the  genius  of  the 
country.  And  if,  consciously,  they  only  planned  for 
comfort  and  used  the  materials  at  hand,  the  result, 
inevitably,  bears  the  test  of  fitness  to  environment. 
Their  low  slant-roof  wooden  houses  were  set  with 
backs  to  the  north  wind  and  a  singularly  wide-awake 


2  OLD  CAPE  COD 

aspect  to  the  south.  The  watershed  of  the  roof  some- 
times ran  with  an  equal  slope  to  the  eaves  of  the 
ground  floor;  but  as  frequently,  yielding  barely  room 
for  pantry  and  storeroom  at  the  north,  it  lifted  in 
front  to  a  second  story.  And  in  either  case  the  "upper 
chambers,"  with  irregular  ceilings  and  windows  look- 
ing to  the  sunrise  and  sunset,  were  packed  tautly  into 
the  apex  of  the  roof.  Ornament  centred  in  the  front 
door  —  a  symbol,  one  might  think,  of  the  determina- 
tion to  preserve,  in  the  enforced  privations  of  pioneer 
life,  the  gentle  ceremonials  of  their  past;  and  however 
small  or  remote,  there  is  not  such  a  house  to  be  re- 
called that  does  not  thus  offer  its  dignified  best  for  the 
occasions  of  hospitality.  The  doors  are  often  beau- 
tiful in  themselves:  their  panels  of  true  proportions 
framed  in  delicately  moulded  pilasters  with  a  line  of 
glazing  to  light  the  tiny  hall;  frequently  a  pediment 
above  protects  the  whole  from  the  dripping  of  eaves. 
And  before  paint  was  used  to  mask  the  wood,  the 
whole  structure,  played  upon  by  sun  and  storm,  wore 
to  a  tone  of  silver-gray  that  made  a  house  as  famil- 
iar to  the  soil  as  a  lichen-covered  rock.  The  square 
Georgian  mansions  came  later,  with  the  prosperity  of 
reviving  trade  after  the  Revolution.  They  were  built 
to  a  smaller  scale  than  those  of  Newburyport  or  Salemi 
or  Portsmouth;  and  the  Cape  Cod  aristocrat  seems  to 
have  been  content  with  two  stories  to  live  in  and  a 
vast  garret  above  to  store  superfluous  treasure.  There 
was  not  a  jarring  note  in  the  scene;  and  the  old  houses, 
set  in  neighborly  fashion  on  the  village  street  or  ap- 
proached by  a  winding  cart-track  "across  the  fields," 


THE  LAND  3 

with  garden  and  orchard  merging  into  pasture,  suit 
to  perfection  the  gentle  undulating  configuration  of 
the  land,  which  is  never  level,  but  swells  into  uplands 
that  recall  the  memory  of  Scotch  moors  or  some 
denuded  English  "Forest,"  and  sinks  away  into 
meadow,  or  marsh,  or  hollows  overflowing  with  the 
warm  perfumes  of  blossomy  growth. 

And  everywhere  there  is  color:  in  hill  and  lowland, 
in  circles  of  swampy  bush,  in  salt  creek  and  dune. 
Even  the  motorist,  projected  through  the  country 
with  a  slip,  a  flash,  a  change  too  swift  for  the  eye  to 
note  its  intimate  charm,  is  caught  by  the  cheerful- 
ness of  green  and  blue  and  dazzling  white,  and  more 
blue,  the  blue  of  salt  water,  clasping  all.  One  may  con- 
cede at  once  that  it  is  a  country  adapted  to  the  pleas- 
ure of  summer  folk,  if  they  be  not  set  upon  taking 
their  pleasure  too  seriously  where  there  are  neither 
mountains  to  climb  nor  big  game  to  hunt,  and  the  soft 
air  does  not  invite  to  endeavor.  But  the  wind  sweeps 
clean  from  ocean  to  bay  and  picks  up  in  passing  resin- 
ous scents  of  the  pine;  sands  reflect  magic  lights  of 
rose  and  pearl;  the  townships  to  the  north,  as  Robert 
Cushman  reported  of  Plymouth,  are  "full  of  dales 
and  meadow  ground  as  England  is";  and  the  long 
sweep  of  the  outer  shore,  south,  east,  and  north,  is 
extraordinarily  varied  and  broken;  deep  inlets  cool 
the  air  of  the  warmest  months,  islands  that  yesterday 
were  not  and  to-morrow  may  be  destroyed  by  the 
tides  interlace  the  coast  with  shallow  lagoons  where 
children  sail  their  boats,  bluffs  carry  the  eye  out  to 
the  clear  distances  of  the  ocean,  and  there  are  har- 


4  OLD  CAPE  COD 

bors  where,  on  a  misty  day,  buildings  loom  like  "tow- 
er'd  Camelot."  Tides  rise  and  fall  in  the  salt  rivers 
that  wander  through  marshlands  to  give  changing 
beauty  to  the  scene;  lakes  tempt  the  fisherman;  and 
for  more  ambitious  sport  one  may  put  to  sea  and 
return  at  night,  whether  lucky  or  not,  with  the  fine 
philosophy  engendered  by  a  ravenous  appetite  and 
the  sure  prospect  of  excellent  food  to  stay  it. 

But  perhaps  the  ultimate  charm  of  the  Cape  is  that, 
like  a  child,  it  is  small  enough  to  be  loved.  For  the 
native-born,  returning  here  in  middle  age,  there  is  the 
delight  of  coming  back  to  little  things  that  memory 
had  held  as  stupendous:  a  dim  foreign  township  that 
used  to  be  reached  in  a  day's  journey  with  "carry- 
all and  pair"  is  only  five  miles  distant  by  the  Lower 
Road;  the  Great  Square  proves  to  be  within  the  swing 
of  an  hour's  stroll;  the  "cap'n's"  a  modest  mid- Vic- 
torian mansion  with  library  and  drawing-room  that 
had  the  remembered  vista  of  Versailles.  Yet,  in  their 
degree,  this  charm  is  free  to  the  stranger.  The  Cape 
has  a  whimsical  and  endearing  smallness:  its  greatest 
amplitude  can  boast  but  a  few  miles;  and  the  most 
tortuous  wood  road  that  promised  a  day's  excursion 
through  an  uncharted  wilderness  will  soon  show  you, 
from  some  gentle  eminence,  the  true  north  to  be 
reckoned  by  the  curve  of  the  bay. 

It  is  such  a  jaunt  inland  to  the  woods  that  should 
invite  the  traveller,  in  any  season,  to  forsake  his 
motor-car  for  a  sober  "horse  and  team"  as  the  bet- 
ter equipment  to  circumvent  obstacles  of  unbridged 
stream  or  fallen  tree.  If  even  as  he  threads  the 


THE  LAND  5 

crowded  village  street  he  can  occupy  his  imagination 
with  the  leisurely  past  that  matches  the  rate  of  his 
progress,  his  pleasure  will  be  the  greater;  and  the 
effort  prove  not  too  difficult  when,  as  of  old,  poplar 
and  willows  shade  the  road  and  elms  droop  impar- 
tially over  gray  homesteads  and  the  passer-by,  or 
behind  decent  screens  of  shrub  and  hedge  houses 
blink  with  a  modest  air  of  being  sufficient  for  all 
desirable  comfort.  Farther  afield  wayside  tangles  of 
wild  rose  and  cherry,  and  scented  racemes  of  the 
locust-tree,  in  their  season,  make  the  air  sweet;  or 
in  a  later  month,  bright  companies  of  orange  lilies 
are  drawn  up  at  attention  by  the  rail  fence  that  has 
worn  to  a  beautiful  silvery  hue,  and  Joe  Pyeweed 
nods  at  thoroughwort  in  the  swamp.  Fields  of  warm- 
toned  grass  roll  down  to  the  blur  of  willows  in  a 
meadow;  in  pastures  intersected  by  crumbling  stone 
walls  stalwart  purple  and  white  blooms  rout  the 
fading  mists  of  succory.  And  there  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  village,  hills  are  dressed  in  homespun  woven 
of  sparse  grasses  and  crisp  gray  moss  buttoned  down 
with  clumps  of  bayberry  and  juniper,  adorned  in 
summer  by  the  filmy  lace  of  the  indigo-plant,  and  in 
autumn  with  a  lovely  cloak  of  dwarf  goldenrod  and 
asters. 

Far  to  the  north,  now,  lies  the  silver  shield  of  the 
bay;  inland,  beyond  the  hills,  deep-set  in  wooded 
banks  is  a  glint  of  blue  water,  and  near  at  hand  a 
farm  guarded  by  the  spear  of  a  pine  that  tops  the 
roof  twice  over.  The  road  dips  sharply  to  a  brook  that 
bubbles  along  with  a  force  that  once  turned  mill 


6  OLD  CAPE  COD 

wheels,  and  rises  again  in  a  graceful  curve  to  a  hill 
where  stands  a  weather-beaten  house  as  if  a-tiptoe  to 
survey  in  the  meadows  of  the  farther  view  the  secret 
beauties  of  a  lake.  A  few  miles  more,  and  there,  among 
the  wooded  uplands  that  make  the  watershed  be- 
tween sea  and  bay,  lies  a  network  of  interlacing 
roads:  "blind  roads"  where  scrub  oaks  and  pines  lash 
the  traveller  and  the  horse  proceeds  with  a  careful 
foot  among  the  springes  of  a  vigorous  younger  growth; 
narrow  tracks  that  lead  to  the  cul-de-sac  of  a  cran- 
berry swamp  or  a  woodlot  where  the  axe  has  been 
busy  with  its  work  of  denudation;  or  long  arched 
aisles  of  green,  with  here  a  little  bay  a-dance  with 
ferns  washing  out  into  the  woodland,  and  there  a 
vista  of  hills  opening  through  mullioned  windows 
built  by  the  straight  trunks  of  the  pines.  And  here 
are  the  great  ponds  with  bold  sandy  bluffs  and 
curves  that  cheat  us  into  believing  them  larger  than 
they  are.  They  are  pictures  of  security  as  their 
waves  sparkle  in  the  sun  and  break  idly  on  the 
miniature  beaches,  but  quick  squalls  may  come  cut- 
ting down  from  the  hills  to  lash  them  into  a  sudden 
ugly  fury  that  bodes  ill  for  any  stray  craft  plying 
these  waters,  where,  even  to-day,  there  is  never 
traffic  sufficient  to  disturb  the  pleasing  atmosphere 
of  solitude.  On  a  wooded  shore  there  may  be  a  shoot- 
ing-lodge or  a  bungalow,  a  pier  with  a  few  boats 
bobbing  at  anchor  on  one  lake  or  another;  but  for  the 
most  part  they  seem  more  remote  from  man  than 
when  Indians  followed  the  forest  trails  arid  beached 
their  canoes  under  a  shelving  bank. 


THE  LAND 

ii 

THERE  are  riches  enough  for  all  who  love  the  land :  for 
those  who  come  to  play,  and  those  who  come  chiefly  to 
refresh  their  memory  of  the  past;  for  those  of  the  fine 
old  stock  who  live  here  year  in  and  year  out  on 
the  modest  competence  inherited  from  seafaring  an- 
cestors; and  those  who  fish,  or  farm,  or  engage  in  the 
important  modern  industry  of  ministering  to  the 
"summer  people."  The  quality  of  the  riches,  as  in 
any  community,  may  vary  with  the  individual.  But 
save  among  a  negligible  few  of  the  idlers  —  where 
there  is  a  sinister  strain  of  vice  in  a  "  petered-out " 
neighborhood,  or  a  foolish  and  incongruous  display 
among  some  visitors  —  there  is  a  recognizable  inherit- 
ance from  the  men  who  settled  the  land:  an  atmos- 
phere of  simplicity,  a  sturdy  instinct  of  judging  one 
for  what  he  is  rather  than  for  what  he  has,  a  predi- 
lection for  healthy  pleasures.  It  is  folk  of  this  kind 
whom  the  Cape  attracts  —  plain  people,  if  you  will; 
and  it  is  perhaps  significant  that  potent  as  the  land 
might  be  to  stimulate  the  imagination,  it  is  only  the 
beguiling  "foreign"  atmosphere  of  Provincetown 
that  has  fostered  anything  like  a  School. 

Cape  Cod:  a  sandbar,  one  may  have  the  more  ex- 
cuse for  judging,  as  the  land  lifts  to  the  wind-swept 
plains  of  Truro.  There  is  a  change  in  the  aspect  of  the 
Cape  as  it  turns  due  north  to  brace  itself  against  the 
thunderous  approach  of  the  Atlantic.  Straight  and 
defiant,  it  holds  its  own  to  the  Clay  Pounds  at  High- 
land Light,  the  Indians'  Tashmuit,  and  then,  little 


8  OLD  CAPE  COD 

by  little,  the  ocean  pushes  it  back  and  folds  it  over  in 
the  graceful  curve  of  the  tip  at  Provincetown.  From 
the  frayed  edge  of  Chatham  on  the  south  shore  — 
broken  as  it  is  into  deep  bays  with  outer  shoals  and 
beaches  that  may  alter  their  whole  contour  in  a  win- 
ter's storms  —  and  on  the  north  the  snug  village  of 
Orleans  where  the  by-roads  are  the  prettiest,  we  en- 
ter upon  a  new  country.  It  may  be  remarked  in  pass- 
ing that  Orleans  offers  something  of  martial  interest 
to  the  traveller  there :  for  at  Rock  Harbor  on  the  bay 
was  fought  the  famous  Battle  of  Orleans,  an  engage- 
ment of  1812;  and  at  Nauset  Harbor,  in  the  Great 
War,  a  German  submarine,  with  some  idea,  appar- 
ently, of  defeating  a  tow  of  empty  coal  barges, 
planted  a  stray  shot  on  the  sandbar  at  its  mouth  to 
the  considerable  alarm  of  cottagers  in  the  vicinity. 

At  Nauset  Beach  we  look  out  over  the  ocean,  and 
turning,  see  behind  us  the  Harbor  that  lies  there  as  if 
bent  upon  offering  every  variety  of  inlet  —  bay,  la- 
goon, cove,  and  salt  river  threading  the  marshes  — 
that  may  be  crowded  into  a  small  compass  of  miles. 
In  its  progress  it  all  but  meets  the  equally  erratic 
inlets  of  Chatham,  and  also  the  waters  of  Cape  Cod 
Bay,  with  the  result  that  any  breeze  there  is  from  the 
sea.  To  the  south  stretches  the  Beach,  a  low  straight 
wall  of  sand  between  Harbor  and  ocean,  moulded  by 
the  Atlantic,  worried  by  its  storms,  yet  somehow 
withstanding  the  impact,  and  linking  up  at  the  sharp 
apex  of  Chatham  with  the  sands  of  Monomoy  that, 
again,  are  in  line  with  Nantucket  Shoals  and  the 
Island.  It  needs  a  wary  seaman  to  know  the  safe 


THE  LAND  9 

entrance  to  Vineyard  Sound.  To  the  north  the  shore 
rises  steadily  to  the  great  bluffs  at  Highland  Light  — 
the  Norsemen's  Gleaming  Strands,  a  name  best  ap- 
preciated by  the  seafarer  proceeding,  on  a  fair  morn- 
ing, to  the  port  of  Boston,  when  the  hours  spent 
in  running  by  that  line  of  golden  cliffs  may  be  the 
pleasantest  of  his  voyage.  And  wherever  one  may 
penetrate  to  the  coast  —  unless  one  has  the  enter- 
prise of  Thoreau  to  tramp  along  shore,  he  must  return 
to  a  town  and  take  the  next  road  eastward  —  there  is 
always  a  difference  in  the  scene.  Perhaps  at  no  point 
is  it  more  lovely  than  at  Wellfleet,  where  the  bluffs 
curve  gently  to  a  promontory  and  the  surf,  touched  by 
a  stray  shaft  of  sunlight,  breaks  into  crystal  and  jade. 
In  and  out,  they  trend  away  again  to  the  north;  and 
the  sea  at  our  feet,  forward  flow  and  backward  clutch, 
even  on  a  cold  day  of  spring  sounds  the  whole  gamut 
of  blue,  light,  dark,  bewilderingly  mingled,  out  to 
the  intense  purple  of  our  farthest  reach  of  vision  — 
literally,  the  Purple  Sea.  There  is  little  break  in  the 
line  of  bluffs,  but  sometimes  one  of  the  valleys,  that 
now  begin  to  cut  transversely  across  the  Cape,  per- 
sists to  the  coast;  and  one  of  the  prettiest  drives  is 
to  Cahoon's  Hollow  by  way  of  a  typical  Cape  Cod 
wood-road,  winding  up  hill  and  down,  with  vistas 
of  blue  ponds  glinting  through  the  trees.  The  road 
debouches  on  dunes,  covered  with  a  low,  shrubby 
growth;  and  everywhere  there  has  been  an  amazing 
quantity  of  the  wild  cranberry  covering  acre  after 
acre  with  its  glossy  green  mat  of  leaves.  The  land 
billows  down  to  the  water's  edge,  yielding  flash- 


10  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ing  glimpses  of  blue  water  long  before  we  reach  it, 
and  rises  then  on  either  hand  into  deeply  indented 
cliffs. 

The  country,  as  we  follow  the  main  road  inland 
once  more,  swells  into  rounded  hills  that  seem  under 
bonds  to  crowd  as  many  of  their  company  as  possible 
into  the  narrow  confines  between  sea  and  bay.  The 
deep  valleys  among  them  conceal  many  snug  home- 
steads built  there  by  the  First  Comers;  and  the  atmos- 
phere is  indescribably  pure  blending,  by  the  winds  that 
always  blow,  the  bracing  qualities  natural  to  ocean  and 
upland.  It  is  easy  to  share  the  enthusiasm  of  a  physi- 
cian travelling  this  way  who  exclaimed : "  It 's  the  best 
air  in  North  America."  The  hills  now  merge  into  high 
moors  that  narrow  to  the  Clay  Pounds  where  High- 
land Light  finds  a  firm  foundation.  One  overlooks 
both  sea  and  bay  and  walks  poised  aloft  as  on  a  roof- 
tree.  Thoreau  is  master  there,  and  has  written  dis- 
cursively of  flora  and  birds  and  humans,  and,  with 
the  wonder  appropriate  to  an  inlander,  of  the  sea.  In 
truth  "a  man  may  stand  there  and  put  all  America 
behind  him."  As  for  the  name,  a  triangular  plot  of 
some  ten  acres  composed  of  a  blue  clay  cuts  trans- 
versely through  the  sand;  "pounds"  is  variously  ex- 
plained as  a  corruption  of  ponds  or  as  suggested  by 
the  pounding  of  the  surf.  The  land  slopes  up  from  the 
inner  bay  to  the  great  shining  bluffs  that  are  singu- 
larly bold  and  picturesque,  with  escarpment  and  over- 
hang, bastion  and  turret  built  by  their  architect,  the 
sea.  Below  them  on  calm  days  the  polished  surface  of 
the  Atlantic  breaks  into  foam  on  the  ivory  beaches. 


THE  LAND  11 

But  in  winter  there  is  a  different  story  of  savage  surf 
and  an  ocean  that  flings  up  its  spume  near  two  hun- 
dred feet  to  the  starved  grass  of  the  upland.  Such 
clamor  is  unbelievable  in  the  pearly  haze  of  summer; 
but  even  then  an  infrequent  nor'easter  may  whip  the 
Atlantic  into  a  hungry  rage  as  if  to  send  it  leaping 
over  the  puny  barrier  that  divides  the  outer  uproar 
from  the  gray  dogs  of  the  bay  that  are  showing  their 
teeth  to  the  gale. 

Provincetown  is  a  story  in  itself.  The  village,  with 
its  ingredients  of  old  Cape  Cod  and  a  large  propor- 
tion of  handsome,  gentle-mannered  folk  from  the 
East  Atlantic  Islands,  is  curled  comfortably  about  the 
edge  of  its  harbor.  It  has  been  said  that  Provincetown 
has  the  "privilege  of  turning  to  look  at  itself  like  a 
happy  child  who  has  donned  a  long  train,"  and  there 
is  an  evening  picture  of  the  "circlet  of  lights  with  a 
background  of  slender  spires  and  hills,  a  friendly 
beacon  shining  over  the  narrow  spit  of  land  at  Wood 
End."  Picturesque  and  picturesque:  one  wears  the 
words  threadbare  —  picturesque  in  summer,  with 
the  flicker  of  shadow  and  sun,  sharp-cut,  exotic, 
the  brightly  dressed  folk  thronging  the  streets  or 
hailing  one  another  from  the  windows  above;  pic- 
turesque, with  a  difference,  in  the  less  exciting  at- 
mosphere of  winter  when  the  town  is  comfortably 
full  of  its  own  people  busy  about  their  affairs,  which 
more  often  than  not  means  preparing  for  the  har- 
vest that  summer  is  to  bring  them.  The  harbor  is  a 
picture  at  high  tide  or  low,  with  the  boats  anchored 
in  the  roadstead  or  moored  to  the  wharves;  or  the 


12  OLD  CAPE  COD 

sun  slanting  across  the  sandflats  where  a  dory  is 
stranded  by  the  tide,  and  its  master,  dark-ringletted, 
slouch-hatted,  a  red  kerchief  knotted  at  his  throat,  a 
red  flower  in  his  shirt,  strides  shorewards  with  his 
catch  dripping  in  its  creel.  The  fish- wharves  make 
a  painter's  fingers  itch  to  be  at  work,  and  many  are 
those  who  respond  to  the  impulse.  No  small  part 
of  the  vivacity  of  the  summer  scene  is  furnished  by 
the  artists  and  their  easels  and  their  colors  —  artists 
who  express  what  they  see  after  a  method  that 
would  horrify  the  ladies  of  the  earlier  era  that  is  our 
particular  affair. 

The  soil  is  sand,  and  it  is  said  that  the  gardens  of 
the  town  were  imported  by  returning  shipmasters 
who,  in  more  fertile  regions,  steved  their  holds  with 
loam  for  ballast  and  dumped  it  in  their  own  front 
yards.  However  that  may  be,  the  little  gardens  are  as 
pretty  as  in  any  English  village;  a  vista  harborwards 
through  bright  plantations  of  hollyhock  is  something 
to  remember.  And  there  are  many  trees  sheltering 
the  houses  and  yards:  silver  abeles,  and  elms,  and 
willows,  —  the  old  willows  "Way  up  along."  The 
scene  to-day  is  perhaps  unduly  dominated  by  the 
Monument,  which  with  time  may  develop  a  closer 
familiarity  with  its  environment.  Springing  from  clus- 
tering trees  on  a  low  eminence  above  the  town,  grace- 
ful in  itself,  it  is  as  much  a  memorial  to  the  indefatiga- 
ble will  of  one  of  the  last  of  the  deep-water  captains 
as  to  his  forbears,  the  Pilgrims.  In  season  and  out  he 
worked  for  its  accomplishment,  with  the  result  that  a 
colossal  Sienese  bell-tower,  supplementing  as  it  were 


THE  LAND  13 

the  enterprise  of  Columbus,  the  Genoan,  pins  firmly 
in  place  the  sands  of  Cape  Cod. 

The  village  is  bounded  by  wooded  hills,  and  a  drive 
oceanward  brings  us  to  the  dunes  where  the  State, 
year  after  year,  has  waged  war  with  the  drifting  sand 
of  its  Province  Lands.  Life-saving  stations  and  bea- 
cons are  set  at  short  intervals,  and  are  needed,  on  this 
shore,  and  out  there  lie  the  great  shoals  of  the  Peaked 
Hill  Bar,  the  cruellest  of  all  the  coast,  where  ship 
after  ship  has  piled  her  bones,  and  men  by  the  hun- 
dred have  gone  to  their  death.  To  the  eye,  in  a  crisp 
north  wind,  they  present  only  lines  of  vivid  jade- 
green  water  set  in  the  wide  field  of  blue;  and  here  sea 
and  shore  give  such  promise  of  variety  as  makes  one 
long  to  watch  the  seasons  through  in  sun  and  storm 
and  shrouding  mists.  The  dunes  that  are  no  other 
color  than  that  of  sand,  ever  responsive  to  the  chang- 
ing mood  of  the  atmosphere,  are  covered  now  and  then 
by  carpets  of  growth  that  run  from  dull  green  to  the 
purple  of  winter;  and  they  and  the  bluffs  beyond  them 
are  no  more  constant  in  aspect  than  their  neighbor 
the  sea.  Far  from  depressing  the  spirit,  they  stim- 
ulate keen  anticipation  of  what  the  hour  shall  bring 
forth  and  a  sense  that  whatever  its  fruit  one  shall 
be  great  enough  to  share  it.  Of  all  the  places  one  has 
seen  here  it  is  most  fitting  that  man  should  dare  to 
be  free. 

in 

FROM  the  slender  tip  of  Champlain's  Cap  Blanc  to 
Wareham  one  is  never  out  of  sight  of  water :  salt  here 


14  OLD  CAPE  COD 

and  salt  there,  ocean  and  inlet  and  bay;  and  the  great 
ponds  of  the  uplands,  or  deep  in  its  swampy  covert 
a  lake  dropped  from  the  jewelled  chain  among  the 
hills.  In  the  towns  nearer  the  mainland  are  creeks 
and  brooks  and  tiny  runlets,  flooded  cranberry 
swamps,  a  ditch  choked  with  the  lush  growth  it  nour- 
ishes; or  near  the  beach  a  peat  bog  may  wink  un- 
expectedly from  its  bosky  rim  where  a  colony  of 
night  heron  have  nested  to  be  near  their  feeding- 
ground  in  the  bay.  And  when  the  tide  is  at  ebb  they 
and  the  seagulls  wheel  out  there  in  airy  platoons  that 
manoeuvre  as  if  to  catch  the  light  on  their  ermine  or 
sleek  surtouts  of  gray.  On  the  drying  sands  the  gulls 
teeter  about  like  high-heeled  ladies  on  an  esplanade 
until  a  stranded  minnow  changes  the  play  and  they 
pounce  and  cuff  and  scream  like  boys  greedy  for  a 
penny.  There  are  rich  harvests  for  the  hungry  on  these 
wide  reaches  of  the  sandflats,  and  even  a  glutton  bird 
could  gorge  his  fill  upon  the  prey  entrapped  in  the 
fish-weirs  that  dot  the  inner  coast. 

There,  at  one  point,  the  tide  marches  out  a  long 
mile  to  the  Great  Bar  and  back  again,  by  appointed 
channels,  unhurrying,  punctual  to  the  minute,  to 
keep  its  tryst  with  the  shore.  Sailors,  unless  they  have 
a  care  to  the  time,  are  likely  to  be  "hung  up"  on  the 
Bar;  but  for  one  ashore  who  looks  out  to  the  white 
line  of  breaking  foam,  every  moment  of  the  ebb  and 
turn  has  its  special  beauty.  In  bright  days  the  shoal- 
ing waters  show  a  lovely  interlacement  of  greens  and 
blue;  but  when  the  sky  is  shrouded  in  gray,  fold  upon 
fold,  and  the  sun,  invisible,  steps  softly  westward, 


THE  LAND  15 

their  surface  is  like  burnished  •  metal,  although  a 
painter's  eye  would  discern  there  a  pastel  of  mauves 
and  pink  and  blue  and  a  whole  chromatic  scale  of 
green.  White  sandflats,  disclosed  by  the  ebb,  are 
carved  in  whorls  like  a  shell  by  the  hand  of  the  tide. 
Inshore  plumy  grasses  fringe  them;  here  and  there  in- 
finitesimal forms  of  life  stain  them  amethyst  or  green. 
But  the  wide  sweep  of  them  responds  to  some  subtile 
quality  in  the  day,  and  they  are  plains  of  pearl  where 
cloudy  shadows  drift,  or,  in  certain  golden  hours,  they 
burn  with  color  like  some  jewelled  marquetry  of  the 
East.  A  flaming  sunset  walks  them  with  feet  of  blood. 
And  day  after  day  they,  or  the  waters  above  them, 
surprise  us  with  some  new  sweet  diversity. 

A  scarf  of  gray  tops  the  sand  bluffs  of  the  opposite 
shore,  and  when  the  land  looms,  miragelike,  scat- 
tered villages  appear;  or  on  certain  clear  evenings 
we  may  catch  the  twinkle  of  friendly  lights.  And  in 
summer  days  when  the  languid  creeks  threading  the 
marshlands  add  a  brighter  blue  to  the  picture  that 
throbs  in  the  sun  —  water  and  sky  and  the  dazzling 
collar  of  sand  that  yokes  land  and  sea  —  the  bay, 
seeming  all  but  landlocked  in  its  honey-colored  bluffs, 
deceives  us  with  a  look  of  inland  waters  and  lies  as 
softly  there  as  Long  Pond  among  the  hills.  Above  the 
beaches,  now  and  again,  stand  groves  of  pines,  homely 
thurifers  that  incense  the  breeze  as  it  passes.  And 
where  the  line  of  shore  dips  to  a  lowland,  the  salt 
marshes,  with  their  exquisite  adjustment  to  the  sea- 
son, are  a  treasury  of  beauty  —  rich  greens  flush- 
ing and  dying  to  the  bronze,  studded  with  haycocks 


16  OLD  CAPE  COD 

like  the  bosses  of  an  ancient  shield,  that  challenges 
encroaching  autumn  tides. 

Winter  drains  the  scene  of  color,  but  salt  winds 
cheat  the  lower  temperatures  of  their  rigor,  and  it  is  a 
hard  season  when  snow  lies  in  the  meadows  through 
consecutive  weeks.  Then  there  are  days  of  brave  sun- 
light when  whitecaps  feather  over  the  surface  of  the 
bay,  and  ice-cakes  churn  in  with  the  tide  and  pile  up 
like  opals  on  the  beach:  days  when  the  air  is  wine- 
clear,  and  the  land  is  dressed  in  its  best  of  warm 
russet  brown,  and  hoofs  strike  the  frozen  roads  with 
the  resonance  of  Piccadilly  pavements.  Then  sunset 
jewels  woodland  interstices  with  mellow  cathedral 
light;  high  on  a  bluff  above  the  crystal  plane  of  a 
lake  regiments  of  militant  pines  salute  the  dying  day; 
and  up  in  the  south,  when  night  hangs  the  stars  low, 
Orion  will  be  calling  his  dogs  for  the  hunting.  But 
more  beautiful  are  the  gray  days  in  winter  when 
earth  meets  heaven  with  the  justly  modulated  values 
of  a  Japanese  print,  and  the  hills,  clothed  in  the  soft 
fur  of  leafless  woods,  crouch  under  a  pale  sky;  when 
in  swamps  the  lances  of  dead  reeds  clash,  and  by  a 
stagnant  pool  stands  a  cluster  of  brown  cat-tails  like 
candles  that  have  lighted  some  past  banquet  of  the 
year. 

In  spring,  long  before  the  tardy  oaks  unsheathe 
their  foliage,  the  sudden  scarlet  of  swamp  maple 
flames  in  a  hollow,  and  we  are  off  to  the  woods  to  hunt 
the  stout  fresh  leaves  which  betray  hiding-places  of 
the  arbutus,  the  mayflower,  under  the  waste  of  a  dead 
year.  Near  by,  wintergreen  in  sturdy  companies 


THE  LAND  17 

shoulders  the  red  berries  that  have  eluded  hungry 
winter  birds,  and  graceful  runnels  of  wild  cranberry 
flow  through  the  open  spaces.  Here  pretty  colonies  of 
windflowers  will  soon  be  swinging  their  bells,  ladies'- 
slipper  and  Jack-in-the-pulpit  dispute  the  season's 
clemency;  and  when  summer  brings  red  lilies  to  sur- 
prise the  eye  in  some  green  chamber  of  the  wood,  our 
journey  should  end  at  the  beach  of  an  inland  lake 
where  spicy  sabbatia  sways  delicately  in  the  warm  air 
and  genesta  grows  on  the  bank. 

From  spring  around  to  winter,  the  months  are 
packed  with  flowers  —  roadside  beauties,  shy  little 
creatures  of  the  fields,  waxen  Indian-pipes  in  the  pine 
groves;  even  on  the  dunes  are  flowering  mosses,  the 
yellow  lace  of  the  poverty-grass,  the  pretty  gray  vel- 
vet leaf  of  "dusty-miller,"  pink  lupin,  wild  grapes 
and  roses  crowding  a  secret  hollow  where  the  soil  is 
enriched,  perhaps,  by  an  ancient  shell-heap  of  the 
Indians.  And  among  the  depressions  of  the  hills  are 
swamps  where  a  lovely  progression,  exquisitely  dis- 
posed as  if  by  conscious  art,  walks  through  the  year. 
Color  dies  hard  in  these  sheltered  nooks,  and  hardly 
is  dun  winter  lord  of  all,  with  stripped  bushes  hud- 
dling like  sheep  in  the  hollow,  than  spring  breaks  his 
rule  and 

"Along  an  edge  of  marshy  ground 
The  shad-bush  enters  like  a  bride." 

Again  the  march  begins :  huckleberry,  Clethra,  honey- 
suckle, the  dull  smear  of  Joe  Pyeweed,  the  white 
web  of  elderberry  blossoms  turning  to  fruity  umbels 
that  promise  homely  brews,  swinging  goldenrod  and 


18  OLD  CAPE  COD 

feather-grass,  the  decorative  intent  of  cat-tails  that, 
with  certain  engaging  brown  velvet  buttons  nodding 
on  their  stems  in  a  swamp  and  the  firm  coral  of  alder- 
berries,  brings  us  around  to  winter  again. 
.  And  there  are  choristers  a-plenty :  the  remote  sweet 
piping  of  hylas  piercing  the  velvet  darkness  of  a  night 
in  spring,  the  melodious  booming  of  bull-frogs,  the 
challenge  of  Bob  White;  and  all  the  dear  homely  New 
England  birds,  twittering,  chirping,  chattering,  pour- 
ing out  their  hearts  in  song  as  they  swing  with  the 
trees  that  the  wind  sweeps  into  endless  motion.  And 
in  summer  and  winter,  from  north,  south,  east,  or 
west,  the  wind  brings  us  news  from  the  sea:  the 
savor  of  salt,  gray  billows  of  cloud  and  fog,  clear 
stark  bright  days  following  one  another  through  a 
season.  The  southwest  gales  of  summer  beat  down 
ripe  grasses  in  the  field  and  feather  willow  and  poplar 
with  silver;  the  great  autumn  gales  go  trumpeting 
through  the  land ;  the  nor' caster  sends  surf  thundering 
on  the  outer  shore;  and  there  are  the  soft  moist 
winds  that  relax  the  high-wrought  tension  of  humans, 
and  melt  the  rigors  of  winter. 

The  free  winds,  —  and  contour,  sound,  color:  with 
nothing  superfluous,  yet  satisfying  and  ever  present. 
And  from  flowers  and  fruit  and  woodland  and  the 
sharp  tang  of  the  sea  there  is  distilled  a  draught  cor- 
rective of  morbid  humors  and  the  wandering  will,  — 
a  stanch  pledge  of  sobriety. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  OLD  COLONY 

I 

IT  is  a  welcoming  country,  and  easily  enough  some  of 
the  Pilgrims,  after  they  had  established  their  settle- 
ment at  Plymouth,  returned  to  the  sandy  shores,  the 
woods  and  meadows  that  had  first  offered  them  the 
possibility  of  home.  They  must  have  had  a  peculiar 
sentiment  for  the  place :  for  here  began  their  adven- 
ture in  the  great  free  country  of  the  wilderness,  and 
the  chronicles  of  Bradford  and  Winslow  show  an  in- 
genuous pleasure  in  the  recital  of  it.  They  were  for  the 
most  part  yeomen  and  farmers,  exiles  from  the  pretty 
valley  of  the  Trent,  who  for  some  eleven  years  had 
lived  restricted  in  small  Dutch  cities;  and  for  sixty- 
seven  days  all  of  them,  yeomen  and  artisans,  men, 
women,  and  children,  many  more  than  the  Mayflower 
could  well  accommodate,  had  been  buffetted  about 
the  Atlantic  by  autumn  gales.  Driven  out  of  their 
calculated  course  to  the  southward,  they  made  their 
landfall  at  Cape  Cod,  "the  which  being  certainly 
known  to  be  it,"  no  wonder  that  they  were  "not  a 
little  joyful."  "Being  thus  arrived  in  a  good  harbor 
and  brought  safe  to  land,"  writes  William  Bradford, 
"they  fell  upon  their  knees  and  blessed  ye  God  of 
Heaven,  who  had  brought  them  over  ye  vast  and  fu- 
rious ocean,  and  delivered  them  from  all  ye  periles 


20  OLD  CAPE  COD 

and  miseries  thereof,  againe  to  set  their  feete  on  ye 
firme  and  stable  earth,  their  proper  elemente." 

Nor  was  it  a  country  unknown  to  them.  Since 
Cabot's  voyage  of  discovery  more  than  a  hundred 
years  earlier,  the  whole  coast  from  Cape  Breton  to 
the  Hudson  had  been  increasingly  visited  by  French 
and  English  seamen  who  were  attracted  chiefly  by 
the  rich  fishing-grounds.  It  is  even  said  that  the  great 
Drake  was  the  first  Englishman  to  set  foot  in  New 
England,  and  that  it  was  upon  Cape  Cod  he  landed. 
There  are  stories  of  ancient  adventurers  voyaging, 
as  it  might  be,  to  the  rhythm  of  Masefield's  Galley- 
Rowers: 

"...  bound  sunset-wards,  not  knowing, 

Over  the  whale's  way  miles  and  miles, 
Going  to  Vine-Land,  haply  going 
To  the  Bright  Beach  of  the  Blessed  Isles. 

"In  the  wind's  teeth  and  the  spray's  stinging 

Westward  and  outward  forth  we  go, 
Knowing  not  whither  nor  why,  but  singing 
An  old  old  oar-song  as  we  row  —  " 

Madoc  of  Wales,  Saint  Brendan  the  Irishman,  Ice- 
landers, Phoenicians  even;  and,  more  certainly,  a 
company  of  Norsemen  who  set  up  a  wrecked  boat  on 
the  Cape  Cod  bluffs,  the  Long  Beaches,  to  guide  the 
landfall  of  later  visitors  to  their  Keel  Cape. 

French,  Dutch,  Spanish,  English,  all  had  their 
names  for  the  Cape,  but  in  1G02,  Bartholomew  Gos- 
nold,  examining  the  coast  of  New  England  with  a  view 
to  colonization,  was  to  give  it  the  predestined  and 


THE  OLD  COLONY  21 

only  right  name:  "Cape  Cod."  Making  across  Massa- 
chusetts Bay  "with  a  fresh  gale  of  wind,"  writes  his 
chronicler,  "in  the  morning  we  found  ourselves  em- 
bayed with  a  mightie  headland"  with  "a  white 
sandie  and  very  bolde  shore,"  where,  landing,  they 
met  an  Indian  "of  proper  stature,  and  of  a  pleasing 
countenance;  and  after  some  familiaritie  with  him, 
we  left  him  at  the  seaside  and  returned  to  our  ship." 
Another  scribe  of  the  party  remarks  that  the  Indian 
had  plates  of  copper  hanging  from  his  ears  and 
"shewed  willingness  to  help  us  in  our  occasions." 
"From  this  place,  we  sailed  round  about  this  head- 
land, almost  all  the  points  of  the  compass,"  and  so  on 
to  Cutty  hunk,  "amongst  many  faire  Islands."  But 
the  significant  point  for  us  is  that  they  "pestered" 
their  ship  so  with  cod-fish  that  they  threw  numbers 
of  them  overboard,  and  thereupon  named  the  land 
Cape  Cod. 

In  1604,  and  for  several  years  thereafter,  Champlain 
was  much  upon  the  New  England  coast,  helping 
Du  Monts  in  a  colonizing  scheme  under  a  charter  of 
Henri  Quatre;  had  they  succeeded,  New  France  would 
have  reached  Long  Island  Sound.  Champlain  landed 
at  Barnstable  and  named  the  harbor  "Port  aux  Huis- 
tres,"  "  for  the  many  good  oysters  there."  He  judged, 
also,  that  it  would  have  been  "an  excellent  place  to 
erect  buildings  and  lay  the  foundations  of  a  state,  if 
the  harbor  were  somewhat  deeper  and  the  entrance 
safer."  The  tip  of  the  Cape  he  called  "Cap  Blanc," 
the  treacherous  shoals  at  the  elbow  "Mallebarre," 
and  at  Chatham  he  was  like  to  have  been  swamped 


22  OLD  CAPE  COD 

in  the  shoals  had  the  Indians  not  dragged  his  boats 
over  into  the  harbor  —  "Port  Fortune"  he  called 
it.  But  it  held  no  good  fortune  for  him :  for  his  men 
quarrelled  with  their  rescuers,  and  after  two  of  them 
had  been  killed,  he  sailed  away.  Champlain,  a  sci- 
entific man,  the  king's  geographer,  wrote  interest- 
ingly of  the  savages,  their  appearance,  customs,  agri- 
culture, dwellings,  and  weighed  the  advantages  of 
colonization  there,  but  French  the  land  was  not 
to  be. 

After  Gosnold  came  several  Englishmen,  Martin 
Pring  among  them,  searching  for  sassafras,  which 
he  knew  was  to  be  found  in  sandy  soil,  and  was  then 
much  esteemed  in  pharmacy  as  of  "sovereigne  vertue 
against  the  Plague  and  many  other  Maladies."  Pring 
coasted  along  to  Plymouth,  where  at  last  he  found 
"sufficient  quantitie"  of  his  sassafras,  and  camped 
for  several  months.  There  one  of  his  company  played 
the  "gitterne"  to  the  joy  of  the  savages  who  danced 
about  him  "twentie  in  a  Ring,  .  .  .  singing  lo  la  lo  la 
la  and  him  that  first  brake  the  ring  the  rest  would 
knocke  and  cry  out  upon."  Henry  Hudson  spent  a 
night  off  the  Cape  and  had  some  difficulty  with  shoals 
and  tides  and  mists;  but  he  testified  that  "the  land  is 
very  sweet,"  and  some  of  his  men  brought  away  wild 
grapes  and  roses;  as  did  also  Edwarjl  Braunde,  who 
hoped  to  discover  "sertayne  perell  which  is  told  by 
the  Sauvages  to  be  there, "and  found  near  Race  Point, 
where  he  landed,  only  some  "goodly  grapes  and  Rose- 
Trees."  It  should  be  noted  that  as  Hudson  cruised 
thereabouts,  Thomas  Ililles  and  Robert  Rayiiey  of 


THE  OLD  COLONY  23 

his  crew  saw  "the  mermaid."  And  in  1614  Captain 
John  Smith  set  sail  for  these  shores  to  look  for  whales 
and  gold-mines,  failing  which  they  would  take  "Fish 
and  Furres,"  as  the  event  proved  to  an  amount  of 
some  fifteen  hundred  pounds.  Smith,  with  eight 
men  in  an  open  boat,  explored  and  charted  the 
coast  and  dedicated  his  map  to  Prince  Charles,  with 
the  request  that  he  change  "the  barbarous  names" 
thereon.  "As  posteritie  might  say,"  writes  Smith, 
"Prince  Charles  was  their  godfather."  New  Eng- 
land, the  river  Charles,  Plymouth  retain  the  royal 
nomenclature.  But  his  Stuart  Bay  and  Cape  James 
are  still  Cape  Cod  and  Cape  Cod  Bay,  and  Milford 
Haven  is  Provincetown  Harbor.  Cape  Cod,  "a  name, 
I  suppose,  it  will  never  lose,"  said  Cotton  Mather, 
"till  the  shoals  of  codfish  be  seen  swimming  on  the 
highest  hills."  "This  Cape,"  wrote  Smith,  "is  made 
by  the  maine  Sea  on  the  one  side,  and  a  great  Bay 
on  the  other  in  forme  of  a  Sickell."  "A  headland  of 
high  hills,  over  growne  with  shrubby  Pines,  hurts 
[huckleberries]  and  such  trash,  but  an  excellent  har- 
bour for  all  weathers." 

And  while  Smith  was  engaged  in  his  scientific  ex- 
pedition, Captain  Thomas  Hunt,  whom  he  had  placed 
in  command  of  the  larger  boat,  after  lading  her  with  fish 
and  furs,  put  his  time  to  profit  by  capturing  twenty- 
four  savages,  Nauset  and  Patuxet  Indians  among 
them;  and  setting  sail  for  Malaga,  he  sold  the  cargo 
for  his  masters  and  the  savages  at  twenty  pounds  the 
head  for  the  advantage  of  his  own  pocket.  "  This  vilde 
act,"  wrote  Smith,"  kept  him  ever  after  from  anymore 


24  OLD  CAPE  COD 

emploiment  in  these  parts."  But  such  commerce  was 
not  unknown:  in  1611,  Harlow,  sailing  for  the  Earl 
of  Southampton,  with  "five  Salvages  returned  for 
England,"  and  one  of  these  men  "went  a  Souldier  to 
the  Wanes  of  Bohemia."  The  Cape  Cod  Indians  seem 
to  have  been  a  gentle,  even  a  forgiving  race,  but  they 
had  a  long  memory  for  such  perfidy,  which  was  to 
prove  a  bad  business  for  all  later  visitors  to  the  region. 
Yet  more  often  than  not  whites  and  natives  fought, 
however  friendly  the  first  overtures  might  have  been; 
and  Smith  reports,  as  a  matter  of  course,  of  the  In- 
dians about  Plymouth:  "After  much  kindnesse  wee 
fought  also  with  them,  though  some  were  hurt,  some 
slaine,  yetwithin  an  houre  after  they  became  friends." 
But  kidnapping  seems  to  have  been  the  unforgivable 
offence. 

Only  the  summer  before  the  Pilgrims  arrived  came 
Thomas  Dermer,  sailing  for  Fernando  Gorges,  Gov- 
ernor of  Old  Plymouth,  and  returned  the  Indian 
Tasquantum  or  Squanto,  captured  by  Hunt  and  sur- 
vivor of  many  vicissitudes,  to  the  end  that  he  might 
serve  as  interpreter  and  find  out  the  truth  about  tales 
of  treasure  in  the  country.  Dermer  thought  favorably 
of  Plymouth  for  a  settlement,  and  rescued  a  French- 
man who  had  been  wrecked  three  years  before  on  Cape 
Cod  and  was  living  with  the  Indians.  He  brought  back, 
with  Squanto,  Epenow,  one  of  Harlow's  victims,  who, 
however,  succeeded  in  escaping  at  Martha's  Vine- 
yard. Epenow,  during  his  exile,  had  been  something 
of  a  personage:  "being  of  so  great  stature  he  was 
shewed  up  and  downe  London  for  money  as  a  won- 


THE  OLD  COLONY  25 

der,  and  it  seemes  of  no  lesse  courage  and  authoritie, 
than  of  wit,  strength  and  proportion." 

It  is  reasonably  certain  that  some  of  these  adven- 
tures, perhaps  all  of  them,  were  known  to  the  Pil- 
grims. They  would  have  been  common  talk  in  Ply- 
mouth, the  city  of  Fernando  Gorges,  and  in  London; 
and  the  Pilgrims  were  come  to  a  region  familiar  at 
least  to  their  captain  or  his  pilot,  who  is  said  to  have 
sailed  once  with  Dernier.  But  every  man  aboard  the 
Mayflower,  as  they  rounded  the  tip  of  Cape  Cod, 
knew  that  they  were  about  to  land  beyond  the  bounds 
of  their  permission  to  colonize,  which  lay  within  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  North  Virginia  Company  and  "not 
for  New  England,  which  belonged  to  another  govern- 
ment" ;  and  "some  of  the  strangers  amongst  them  had 
let  fall  mutinous  speeches  —  that  when  they  cam 
ashore  they  would  use  their  own  libertie." 

Not  for  such  liberty  had  Brewster,  Bradford, 
Winslow,  Carver,  come  upon  their  pilgrimage;  they 
were  men  who  meant  to  be  free  only  within  lawful 
bounds;  and  they  were  true  pioneers,  men  who  in  an 
unforeseen  perplexity  could  make  a  just  decision. 
Hardly  had  they  sighted  the  golden  dunes  of  the 
Cape,  and  fetched  short  about  to  escape  its  treacher- 
ous shoals,  than  they  were  meeting  their  first  test. 
As  they  made  the  "good  harbor  and  pleasant  bay" 
of  Provincetown,  "wherein  a  thousand  sail  of  ships 
might  safely  ride,"  the  famous  Compact  was  written, 
and  forty-one  men  of  the  company  signed  it  ere  they 
set  foot  to  land.  It  was  a  simple  act,  and  none  could 
have  been  more  amazed  than  the  Pilgrims  had  they 


26  OLD  CAPE  COD 

known  its  historical  significance.  But  because  they 
meant  to  be  both  free  and  obedient,  their  Compact 
contained  the  germ  of  all  just  government:  "It  was 
thought  good  that  we  should  combine  together  in 
one  body,  and  to  submit  to  such  government  and 
governors  as  we  should  by  common  consent  agree  to 
make  and  choose." 

-  "In  ye  name  of  God,  Amen.  We  whose  names  are 
underwritten,  the  loyall  subjects  of  our  dread  sover- 
aigne,  King  James,  .  .  .  haveing  undertaken,  for  ye 
glorie  of  God  and  advancemente  of  ye  Christian  faith, 
and  honour  of  our  king  and  countrie,  a  voyage  to 
plant  ye  first  colonie  in  ye  Northerne  parts  of  Vir- 
ginia, doe  by  these  presents  solemnly  and  mutualy 
in  ye  presence  of  God  and  one  of  another,  covenant 
and  combine  ourselves  togeather  into  a  civill  body 
politick,  for  our  better  ordering  and  preservation 
and  furtherance  of  ye  ends  aforesaid,  and  by  ver- 
tue  hearof  to  enacte,  constitute  and  frame  such  just 
and  equall  lawes,  ordinances,  acts,  constitutions  and 
offices,  from  time  to  time,  as  shall  be  thought  most 
meete  and  convenient  for  ye  generall  good  of  ye  colo- 
nie, unto  which  we  promise  all  due  submission  and 
obedience." 

There  is  the  Compact.  Freedom  within  due  limits 
set  by  the  consent  of  the  governed,  these  men  who 
had  chosen  exile  rather  than  submission  to  a  tyran- 
nous reading  of  the  law  proclaimed  as  the  rule  of  their 
future,  a  principle  vital  to  the  spirit  of  the  nation 
that  was  to  be.  And  their  Compact  signed,  and  John 
Carver  chosen  governor  for  the  ensuing  year,  the 


THE  OLD  COLONY  27 

captain  anchored  offshore  and  they  proceeded  upon 
the  next  step  of  their  adventure. 

After  the  cramped  wretchedness  of  the  Mayflower, 
they  must  have  been  eager  for  release.  "Being  pestred 
nine  weeks  in  the  leaking  unwholsome  shipe,  lying 
wet  in  their  cabins,  most  of  them  grew  very  weake  and 
weary  of  the  Sea,"  John  Smith  wrote  of  their  passage 
thither.  In  any  case  there  could  be  no  question  as  to 
the  necessity  of  landing:  they  must  have  wood  and 
water;  the  women  wanted  to  wash,  the  men  to  stretch 
their  legs  and  replenish  the  larder  with  fish  and  game 
and  corn.  If  in  the  process  they  found  a  spot  suitable 
for  settlement  and  offering  a  prospect  of  fair  return 
on  the  investment  made  by  their  financial  backers, 
the  "Merchant  Adventurers"  of  London,  so  much 
the  better. 

That  first  day,  November  11,  Old  Style,  after  the 
Compact  was  signed,  some  fifteen  men  landed  rather 
to  gather  firewood  than  to  explore.  They  saw  no  In- 
dians, and  found  the  "sand  hills  much  like  the  downs 
of  Holland,  but  better,  the  crust  of  the  earth  a  spit's 
depth  excellent  black  earth  all  wooded  with  oaks, 
pines,  sassafras,  juniper,  birch,  holly,  vines,  some  ash, 
walnut;  the  wood  for  the  most  part  open  and  without 
underwood,  fit  either  to  go  or  ride  in."  Comment 
which  would  ill  describe  the  present  appearance  of 
Provincetown  and  Truro;  but  then  the  whole  inner 
shore  of  the  Cape,  at  least,  seems  to  have  been  wooded 
to  the  water's  edge.  The  party  returned  with  a  boat- 
load of  juniper,  "  which  smelled  very  sweet  and 
strong."  The  Sunday  they  kept  aboard  ship,  with 


28  OLD  CAPE  COD 

what  thankful  hearts  for  their  "preservation  on  the 
great  deep,"  and  steadfast  hope  of  the  future  as  we 
may  imagine.  On  Monday  the  men  went  ashore  to 
do  some  boat-building,  and  the  women  to  wash. 
These  landing  parties  had  an  uncomfortable  time  of 
it,  for  the  water  was  too  shallow  to  beach  a  boat, 
and  they  "were  forced  to  wade  a  bow-shot  or  two 
in  going  a-land,  which  caused  many  to  get  colds  and 
coughs,  for  it  was  many  times  freezing  weather." 

On  the  fifteenth  an  exploring  party  set  off  under 
the  command  of  Captain  Miles  Standish.  For  drink, 
wrote  Edward  Winslow,  there  was  "a  little  bottle  of 
aqua  vitse  —  and  having  no  victuals  save  biscuit  and 
Holland  cheese  —  at  last  we  came  into  a  deep  valley 
full  of  brush,  wood  gaile  [bayberry]  and  long  grass 
through  which  we  found  little  paths  or  tracts;  and 
there  we  saw  a  deer,  and  found  springs  of  fresh  water, 
and  sat  us  down  and  drank  our  first  New  England 
water  with  as  much  delight  as  we  ever  drank  drink 
in  all  our  lives."  They  sighted  a  few  Indians,  who 
"ran  into  the  woods  and  whistled  their  dogge  after 
them";  and  William  Bradford,  lagging  behind  to 
examine  a  deer-trap,  was  caught  by  the  leg  for  his 
pains.  "It  was  a  pretty  device  made  with  a  rope  of 
the  Indians'  own  making  which  we  brought  away  with 
us."  They  were  as  eager  as  boys  on  a  Scout  trail;  and 
when  they  came  upon  an  old  palisado,  they  were  sure 
it  must  have  been  the  work  of  Christians;  and  on 
what  is  still  known  as  Corn  Hill  they  found  a  cache 
of  corn  packed  in  baskets,  and  an  old  ship's  kettle. 
Whereupon  they  took  a  kettleful  of  corn  along  with 


THE  OLD  COLONY  29 

them  —  they  meant  to  pay  for  it  when  they  found 
the  owners,  they  said,  and,  moreover,  many  months 
after,  they  did  so.  They  saw  flocks  of  geese  and  ducks, 
and  also  three  fat  bucks,  but  would  rather  have  had 
one.  And  they  camped  in  the  open  near  Stout's  Creek 
at  East  Harbor,  and  next  day  kept  on  to  Pamet  Har- 
bor in  Truro.  Altogether  a  satisfying  expedition  for 
Miles  Standish  and  his  men  who  had  been  cooped  up 
for  so  many  weeks  in  the  Mayflower,  but  they  had 
found  no  spot  to  their  taste  for  a  settlement.  They 
wanted  not  only  good  farm  lands,  but  an  adequate 
harbor  for  the  trade  that  was  to  be:  Pamet  Harbor 
they  dismissed  on  account  of  the  "insufficiency  of  the 
place  for  the  accommodation  of  large  vessels  and  the 
uncertainty  as  to  the  supply  of  fresh  water."  These 
way-worn  stragglers  were  entirely  sure  they  were  to 
need  accommodation  for  large  vessels;  fresh  water, 
by  the  way,  was  there  a-plenty,  although  they  did 
not  find  it. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  they  set  out  on  their  Second 
Discovery,  this  time  by  boat  under  the  command  of 
Master  Jones,  the  Mayflower  skipper,  who  landed 
them  short  of  their  destination  at  Pamet  River.  They 
camped  in  a  freezing  sleet,  and  taking  boat  again  in  the 
morning  kept  on  to  Pamet.  That  night  they  camped 
under  some  pines  and  supped  on  "three  fat  geese  and 
six  ducks  which  we  ate  with  souldiers'  stomachs,  for 
we  had  eaten  little  that  day."  Next  morning,  on  the 
way  to  Corn  Hill,  they  killed  a  brace  of  geese  at  a  single 
shot.  "And  sure  it  was  God's  good  providence  that  we 
found  the  corn,  for  else  we  know  not  how  we  should 


30  OLD  CAPE  COD 

have  done."  Again  they  camped  in  the  open,  and 
again  marched  on  by  Indian  wood  paths  until  they 
came  upon  a  broad  trail  leading  to  a  settlement.  And 
although  they  saw  no  Indians  —  no  doubt  keen  eyes 
were  watching  them  from  woodland  coverts  —  they 
poked  into  the  wigwams  that  were  low  wattled  huts 
with  doorways  scarce  a  yard  high  hung  with  mats; 
and  they  noted  the  wooden  bowls  and  trays,  earthen- 
ware pots,  and  baskets  of  wrought  crab-shells,  and 
"harts'  horns  and  eagles'  claws."  They  seem,  here 
and  there,  to  have  taken  a  sample  of  the  best,  and  re- 
gretted that  they  had  nothing  to  leave  in  exchange. 
"We  intended  to  have  brought  some  beads  and  other 
things  to  have  left  in  their  homes  in  sign  of  peace 
and  that  wre  meant  to  truck  with  them,  but  it  was  not 
done;  but  as  soon  as  we  can  conveniently  meet  with 
them,  we  will  give  them  full  satisfaction."  They  dis- 
covered the  grave  of  a  white  man,  they  thought,  de- 
cently buried,  with  his  sailor's  clothes  and  treasures 
beside  him,  and  a  child's  grave,  from  which  they  took 
a  few  pretty  ornaments.  Some  burial  mounds  they 
left  undisturbed,  saying  sententiously  that  "it  might 
be  odious  unto  them  to  ransack  their  sepulchres," 
which  very  likely  was  no  more  than  truth.  And  still 
they  found  no  place  to  strike  root. 

But  the  Third  Discovery  was  to  have  a  better  re- 
sult. On  December  6  they  set  out,  again  by  boat,  and 
rounded  Billingsgate  Point  before  they  landed  to 
camp  for  the  night.  About  five  in  the  morning,  their 
picket  rushed  in  with  cries  of  "Indians!  Indians!" 
and  they  roused  to  savage  war-whoops  and  arrows 


THE  OLD  COLONY  31 

rattling  down  upon  the  camp.  But  when  they  fired 
their  muskets  the  Indians,  probably  some  of  the 
Nausets  whom  Thomas  Hunt  had  despoiled  of  men, 
ran  away  as  they  had  come,  with  no  one  harmed  on 
either  side.  The  place,  situated  near  Great  Meadow 
Creek  in  Eastham,  was  named  "The  First  Encoun- 
ter." Again  the  explorers  took  boat,  and  passing  the 
harbor  and  fertile  lands  of  Barnstable  in  a  driving 
northeast  gale  and  snowstorm,  drenched  with  the  freez- 
ing spray  that  made  their  clothes  "many  times  like 
coats  of  iron,"  they  pressed  on  to  Plymouth  Bay.  So 
thick  was  the  weather  that  their  pilot,  who  had  prob- 
ably sailed  with  Smith  or  Dermer,  lost  his  bearings. 
"Lord  be  merciful,  my  eyes  never  saw  this  place  be- 
fore," cried  he  as  they  passed  the  Gurnet.  He  would 
there  and  then  have  beached  the  boat,  but  one  of 
stouter  heart  shouting,  "About  with  her,  or  we  are 
all  dead  men,"  they  turned  and  ran  under  the  lee  of 
Clark's  Island  where  they  landed.  There,  in  storm  and 
wet,  they  miserably  bivouacked  over  the  next  day, 
a  Sunday;  and  on  the  Monday  exploring  the  mainland 
and  finding  harbor,  meadow,  and  brook  to  their  mind, 
they  determined  to  make  here  at  Plymouth  their  per- 
manent settlement.  Very  likely  they  had  bethought 
them  of  Dermer's  commendation  of  it  to  Fernando 
Gorges,  although  they  seem  not  to  have  been  amen- 
able to  advice  from  John  Smith,  who  cites  them  as 
a  warning  in  his  "advertisemente  to  Unexperienced 
Planters."  "For  want  to  good  take  heede,"  writes  he 
of  them  in  1630,  "thinking  to  finde  all  things  better 
than  I  advised  them,  spent  six  or  seven  weekes  in 


32  OLD  CAPE  COD 

wandering  up  and  downe  in  frost  and  snow,  winde 
and  raine,  among  the  woods,  cricks,  and  swamps." 
On  December  16,  Old  Style,  the  whole  company,  re- 
united at  Plymouth,  set  about  the  building  of  their 
new  home. 

The  Pilgrims  had  been  little  more  than  a  month  at 
Provincetown,  but,  beside  the  great  achievement  of 
the  Compact,  history  had  been  making  to  open  the 
annals  of  Anglo-Saxon  New  England :  Edward  Thomp- 
son, Jasper  Moore,  and  James  Chilton  had  died;  Dor- 
othy, the  young  wife  of  William  Bradford,  had  fallen 
overboard  to  her  death;  and  Mrs.  William  White  had 
been  delivered  of  a  son,  fittingly  named  Peregrine,  the 
first  born  of  English  parents  in  New  England.  Not 
unreasonably  does  Cape  Cod  claim  precedence  of  Ply- 
mouth when  homage  is  paid  the  Pilgrim  Fathers. 

II 

THE  Compact  sprang  into  being  by  no  magic  of  in- 
spiration :  it  was  the  fruit  of  minds  that  had  fostered 
the  intention  to  be  free  through  years  of  just  living, 
and  the  winning  simplicity  of  the  Pilgrims'  several 
declarations  of  faith  was  the  natural  outcome  of  the 
spirit  that  framed  them.  For  eighteen  years  or  more 
their  leaders  had  believed  and  practised  the  precepts 
of  John  Robinson  whom  they  had  chosen  as  pastor 
of  their  little  congregation  at  Scrooby;  and  Robinson 
charged  them,  according  to  Edward  Winslow,  to  keep 
an  open  mind:  "for  he  was  very  confident  the  Lord 
had  more  truth  and  light  yet  to  break  forth  out  of  His 
holy  word.  He  took  occasion,  also,  miserably  to  be- 


THE  OLD  COLONY  33 

wail  the  state  of  the  Reformed  Churches"  who  stuck 
where  Luther  and  Calvin  had  left  them.  "Yet  God 
had  not  revealed  His  whole  will  to  them.  ...  It  is 
not  possible  .  .  .  that  full  perfection  of  knowledge 
should  break  forth  at  once."  Men  who  held  that  con- 
cept of  life  —  the  progressive  revelation  of  truth  — 
were  as  little  likely  to  cramp  the  just  liberties  of  other 
men  as  they  were  to  submit  themselves  to  the  unjust 
imposition  of  law.  And  when  England  persecuted 
them,  it  was  fitting  that  they  should  flee  to  Holland, 
the  country  of  William  the  Silent,  who  had  declared : 
"You  have  no  right  to  trouble  yourself  with  any 
man's  conscience,  so  long  as  nothing  is  done  to  cause 
private  harm  or  public  scandal."  That  might  have 
been  the  motto  of  their  new  government.  It  has  been 
truly  said  that  the  Plymouth  Church  was  "free  of 
blood."  They  never  hanged  a  Quaker  or  burned  a 
witch,  and  refugees  from  the  Massachusetts  Bay 
Colony  constantly  found  asylum  with  them.  It  must 
be  remembered  that  they  were  so-called  "Separa- 
tists," the  Independents,  men  who  set  religion  above 
any  church,  a  very  different  folk  from  those  uncom- 
promising protestants  of  the  Church  of  England,  the 
Puritans.  Yet,  wisely,  John  Robinson  had  counselled 
them  to  be  "ready  to  close  with  the  godly  party  of 
the  Kingdom  of  England  and  rather  to  study  union 
than  disunion"  with  their  neighbors  in  the  New 
World.  That  "union"  was  meant  to  include  no  aban- 
donment of  principle,  and  when  unwillingly  enough 
they  were  forced  to  merge  with  the  richer  colony  of 
Massachusetts  Bay,  they  were  sufficiently  powerful 


34  OLD  CAPE  COD 

to  expand  somewhat  its  rigid  theocracy;  though  the 
Puritan  influence,  in  turn,  did  much  to  curdle  the 
early  tolerance  of  the  Pilgrims. 

In  the  seventy  years  of  their  independence,  the 
Pilgrims  worked  out,  by  sober  and  deliberate  progres- 
sion, a  plan  of  government  that  was  a  model  of  state- 
hood, and  they  had  the  advantage  over  other  colonies 
that  they  were  constrained  by  no  formal  royal  patent. 
When  their  agents  had  gone  over  from  Holland  to 
obtain  the  king's  consent  to  their  undertaking,  James 
was  ready  to  concede  that  "the  advancement  of  his 
dominions  "  and  "  the  enlargement  of  the  gospel "  were 
an  honorable  motive;  the  idea  of  fishery  profits  was  no 
less  to  his  liking.  "So  God  have  my  soul,"  quoth  he, 
"an  honest  trade.  'T  was  the  Apostles'  own  calling." 
But  a  formal  grant  to  the  despised  Separatists  was 
another  matter,  and  they  had  to  be  content  with  a 
hint  that  "the  king  would  connive  at  them  and  not 
molest  them  provided  they  behaved  themselves  peace- 
ably." They  were  willing  to  take  the  chance  that  the 
king's  word  was  as  good  as  his  bond :  for  if  later  there 
should  be  a  purpose  to  injure  them,  they  shrewdly 
reasoned,  though  they  had  a  seal ' '  as  broad  as  the  house 
floor,"  there  would  be  "means  enow  found  to  recall 
or  reverse  it."  And  they  secured  financial  backing  in 
London,  obtained  permission  from  the  North  Virginia 
Company  to  settle  on  their  coast,  then  "casting  them- 
selves on  the  care  of  Divine  Providence,  they  ventured 
to  America."  Divine  Providence,  apparently,  decreed 
that  they  should  be  free  of  even  such  slight  restraint 
as  the  permission  of  the  North  Virginia  Company,  and 


THE  OLD  COLONY  35 

instead  of  settling  near  the  Hudson  they  were  driven 
to  the  New  England  coast. 

But  they  took  care  in  the  Compact  and  in  all  suc- 
ceeding legislation  to  affirm  their  loyalty  to  the  Eng- 
lish Government.  Though  England  had  been  none  too 
tender  in  her  treatment  of  them,  they  recognized  and 
meant  to  abide  by  the  essential  justice  of  English  law, 
and  to  profit  by  the  stability  that  a  strong  bond  with 
the  Home  Government  could  give  them.  Moreover, 
in  these  men  flourished  the  British  instinct  to  make 
whatever  spot  of  the  globe  they  should  elect  as  home 
"forever  England."  They  themselves  for  eleven  long 
years  had  fretted  as  expatriates  in  an  alien  land. 
"They  grew  tired  of  the  indolent  security  of  their 
sanctuary,"  wrote  Burke  of  them,  although  as  a  fact 
they  had  worked  hard  enough  for  their  daily  bread, 
"and  they  chose  to  remove  to  a  place  where  they 
should  see  no  superior."  In  any  case  they  meant  that 
their  children  should  be  English  rather  than  Dutch, 
and  they  had  refused  overtures  from  Holland  to  settle 
in  Dutch  territory. 

The  machinery  of  their  government  was  of  the 
simplest,  and  expanded,  as  necessity  came,  with  their 
growth.  As  provided  in  the  Compact,  the  Governor 
was  elected  yearly  by  general  manhood  suffrage.  His 
one  assistant  was  soon  replaced  by  a  council  of  seven. 
For  eighteen  years  the  legislative  body,  the  General 
Court  it  is  still  called,  was  composed  of  the  whole  body 
of  freemen;  and  the  qualifications  of  a  freeman  were 
that  he  should  be  "twenty-one  years  of  age,  of  sober, 
peaceable  conversation,  orthodox  in  religion  [as  a 


36  ,OLD  CAPE  COD 


minimum,  belief  in  God  and  the  Bible],  and  should 
possess  rateable  estate  to  the  value  of  twenty  pounds." 
By  1639  the  colony  had  grown  to  require  a  represent- 
ative form  of  government;  and  the  two  branches,  the 
Governor  and  Council  and  the  town  representatives, 
sat  as  one  body  to  enact  laws.  But  save  in  a  crisis, 
no  law  proposed  at  one  session  could  be  enacted  until 
the  next,  so  that  the  whole  body  of  freemen  could 
have  opportunity  to  pass  upon  it  —  a  clear  case  of 
the  "referendum."  As  early  as  1623  the  community 
had  outgrown  its  custom  of  trying  an  offender  by 
the  whole  body  of  citizens,  and  substituted  trial  by 
jury.  Capital  offences  were  six  as  against  thirty-one 
in  England  —  treason,  murder,  diabolical  conversa- 
tion, arson,  rape,  and  unnatural  crimes  —  and  of 
these  only  two  came  to  execution.  No  one  was  ever 
committed,  much  less  punished,  for  "  diabolical  conver- 
sation." Smoking  was  forbidden  outdoors  within  a 
mile  of  a  dwelling-house,  or  while  at  work  in  the  fields: 
evidently  there  was  to  be  no  gossip  over  a  pipe  with 
the  farmer  next  door.  In  time  this  law  was  eased;  and 
though  in  the  early  days  the  clergy  alluded  to  tobacco 
as  the  "smoke  of  the  bottomless  pit,"  they  soon  came 
to  use  it  themselves  and  "tobacco  was  set  at  liberty." 
In  1636  they  first  codified  their  law;  in  1671  was 
printed  their  Great  Fundamentals.  Hubbard,  in  his 
"General  History  of  New  England  from  the  Discov- 
ery to  1680,"  writes:  "The  laws  they  intended  to 
be  governed  by  were  the  laws  of  England,  the  which 
they  were  willing  to  be  subject  unto,  though  in  a 
foreign  land,  and  have  since  that  time  continued  of 


THE  OLD  COLONY  37 

that  mind  for  the  general,  adding  only  some  particu- 
lar muncipal  laws  of  their  own,  suitable  to  their  con- 
stitution, in  such  cases  where  the  common  laws  and 
statutes  of  England  could  not  well  reach,  or  afford 
them  help  in  emergent  difficulties  of  place."  They  were 
loyal  Englishmen  to  the  bone,  and  in  the  first  codifi- 
cation of  law  affirm  their  allegiance:  "whereas  John 
Carver,  William  Bradford,  Edward  Winslow,  William 
Brewster,  Isaac  Allerton  and  divers  others  of  the  sub- 
jects of  our  late  Sovereign  Lord  James  .  .  .  did  un- 
dertake a  voyage  into  that  part  of  America  called 
Virginia  or  New  England  thereunto  adjoining,  there 
to  erect  a  plantation  and  colony  of  English,  intending 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  enlargement  of  His  Maj- 
esty's dominions,  and  the  special  good  of  the  English 
nation."  Yet  they  never  waived  a  jot  of  their  rights 
as  freemen;  and  in  1658,  toward  the  end  of  Crom- 
well's Government,  they  prefaced  the  General  Laws 
with  a  note  that  the  advisers  of  George  III  would 
have  done  well  to  heed:  "We  the  Associates  of  New 
Plymouth,  coming  hither  as  freeborn  subjects  of 
the  State  of  England,  endowed  with  all  and  singular 
the  privileges  belonging  to  such,  being  assembled, 
do  ordain,  constitute  and  enact  that  no  act,  imposi- 
tion, law  or  ordinance  be  made  or  imposed  on  us 
at  present  or  to  come,  but  such  as  shall  be  made 
and  imposed  by  consent  of  the  body  of  the  associates 
or  their  representatives  legally  assembled,  which  is 
according  to  the  free  liberty  of  the  State  of  Eng- 
land." 
At  the  Restoration  they  gave  allegiance  to  Charles; 


38  OLD  CAPE  COD 

in  1689,  bridging  the  chasm  of  revolution,  to  William 
and  Mary:  the  significant  point  that  they  held 
themselves  loyal  to  England,  whatever  its  govern- 
ment might  be.  And  it  is  interesting,  in  their  address 
to  William  and  Mary,  that  they  felt  entirely  free  to 
pass  judgment  upon  the  hated  Royal  Governor, 
Andros:  "  WTe,  the  loyal  subjects  of  the  Crown  of  Eng- 
land, are  left  in  an  unsettled  state,  destitute  of  gov- 
ernment and  exposed  to  the  ill  consequences  thereof; 
and  having  heretofore  enjoyed  a  quiet  settlement  of 
government  in  this  their  Majesties'  colony  of  New 
Plymouth  for  more  than  three  score  and  six  years  .  .  . 
notwithstanding  our  late  unjust  interruption  and  sus- 
pension therefrom  by  the  illegal  arbitrary  power  of 
Sir  Edmond  Andros,  now  ceased,  ...  do  therefore 
hereby  resume  and  declare  their  reassuming  of  their 
said  former  way  of  government."  But  that,  to  their 
great  disappointment,  was  not  to  be,  and  the  royal 
charter  of  William  and  Mary  united  definitely  the 
colonies  of  Plymouth  and  Massachusetts  Bay. 

The  advantage  of  their  "  quiet  settlement  of  govern- 
ment" had  been  a  double  benefit:  for  it  seems  to  have 
been  a  fact  that  liberal  Plymouth  was  free  of  any  inter- 
ference from  England,  while  the  Puritans  of  Massa- 
chusetts Bay,  on  the  contrary,  were  in  continual  hot 
water  with  the  Home  Government.  England  prob- 
ably did  not  love  the  Separatists  better  than  she  had 
ever  done,  but  she  had  no  notion  of  quarrelling  with 
sober,  reasonable  men  who,  in  consideration  of  a  per- 
sonal latitude  that  cost  her  no  inconvenience,  were 
willing  that  other  men,  provided  they  were  "civil," 


THE  OLD  COLONY  39 

should  live  according  to  their  individual  right;  and 
thereby  saved  her  the  trouble  of  playing  arbiter  in 
colonial  disputes.  England,  moreover,  was  deriving 
considerable  profit  from  the  lusty  young  colony  that, 
by  its  enterprise,  was  tipping  the  scales  in  her  favor 
in  the  trader's  game  she  was  playing  with  Holland 
and  France. 

in 

THE  Pilgrims  had  been  no  visionaries  seeking  Utopia. 
They  were  members  of  a  well-constructed  joint-stock 
company  which,  as  occasion  offered,  they  adapted  to 
the  changing  needs  of  the  colony;  and  they  were  pre- 
pared to  earn  not  only  a  home  for  themselves,  but  a 
return  on  the  money  invested  in  their  enterprise  by 
their  financial  backers,  and,  if  they  prospered,  a  sum 
sufficient  to  buy  out  such  interests.  It  is  true  that  they 
were,  first,  religious  men  seeking  religious  freedom 
for  themselves,  and,  if  God  willed,  they  would  be  the 
bearers  of  good  news  to  others.  Beyond  all  other  rea- 
sons pushing  them  to  their  adventure,  wrote  Bradford, 
was  "a  great  hope  and  inward  zeal  they  had  of  laying 
some  good  foundation,  or  at  least  to  make  some  way 
thereunto,  for  the  propagation  and  advancing  of  the 
gospel  of  Christ  in  those  remote  parts  of  the  world; 
yea,  though  they  should  be  but  even  as  stepping 
stones  unto  others  for  the  performing  of  so  great  a 
work." 

Yet  money  as  well  as  zeal  was  necessary  for  such  an 
undertaking  as  theirs,  and  the  Holland  exiles  were 
poor.  But  arrangements  were  concluded  with  a  com- 


40  OLD  CAPE  COD 

pany  of  promoters  in  London,  "Merchant  Adventur- 
ers" was  their  more  romantic  title  then,  to  supply 
the  larger  part  of  the  necessary  capital,  while  the 
Pilgrims  as  "Planters"  should  furnish  the  man  power. 
Their  agreement  set  forth  that:  "The  Adventurers 
and  Planters  do  agree  that  every  person  that  goeth, 
being  aged  sixteen  years  and  upward,  be  rated  at  ten 
pounds,  and  ten  pounds  be  accounted  a  single  share"; 
that  "  he  that  goeth  in  person  and  furnishes  himself 
out  with  ten  pounds  either  in  money  or  other  provi- 
sions be  accounted  as  having  twenty  pounds  in  stock, 
and  in  the  division  shall  receive  a  double  share"; 
and  "that  all  such  persons  as  are  of  this  Colony  are  to 
have  their  meat,  drink,  apparel,  and  all  other  provi- 
sions out  of  the  common  stock  of  said  Company." 

Doctor  Eliot,  in  his  speech  at  the  dedication  of  the 
Pilgrim  monument  at  Provincetown,  lucidly  described 
the  working-out  of  the  Agreement:  "It  was  provided 
that  the  Adventurers  and  Planters  should  continue 
their  joint-stock  partnership  for  a  period  of  seven 
years,  during  which  time  all  profits  and  benefits  got  by 
trading,  fishing,  or  any  other  means  should  remain 
in  the  common  stock.  ...  At  the  end  of  seven  years 
the  capital  and  profits,  namely,  the  houses,  lands, 
goods,  and  chattels,  were  to  be  equally  divided  be- 
tween the  Adventurers  and  the  Planters.  .  .  .  Who- 
ever should  carry  his  wife  and  children  or  servants 
should  be  allowed  for  every  such  person  aged  sixteen 
years  and  upward  one  share  in  the  division.  ...  At 
the  end  of  seven  years  every  Planter  was  to  own  the 
house  and  garden  then  occupied  by  him;  and  during 


THE  OLD  COLONY  41 

the  seven  years  every  Planter  was  to  work  four  days 
in  each  week  for  the  Colony  and  two  for  himself  and 
his  family.  .  .  .  Before  the  seven  years  of  the  original 
contract  with  the  Adventurers  had  expired  the  Pil- 
grims had  established  a  considerable  trade  to  the 
north  and  to  the  south  of  Plymouth,  and  had  found  in 
this  trade  a  means  of  paying  their  debts  and  making  a 
settlement  with  the  Adventurers,  which  was  concluded 
on  the  basis  of  buying  out  their  entire  interest  for  the 
sum  of  eighteen  hundred  pounds.  Eight  of  the  original 
Planters  advanced  the  money  for  this  settlement,  and 
therefore  became  the  owners  of  the  settlement,  so  far 
as  the  Adventurers'  liens  were  concerned.  It  was  then 
decided  to  form  an  equal  partnership,  to  include  all 
heads  of  families  and  all  self-supporting  men,  young 
or  old,  whether  church  members  or  not.  These  men, 
called  the  'Purchasers/  received  each  one  share  in  the 
public  belongings,  with  a  right  to  a  share  for  his  wife 
and  another  for  each  of  his  children.  The  shares  were 
bonded  for  the  public  debt,  and  to  the  shareholders 
belonged  everything  pertaining  to  the  colony  except 
each  individual's  personal  effects.  These  shareholders 
numbered  one  hundred  and  fifty-six,  namely,  fifty- 
seven  men,  thirty-four  boys,  twenty-nine  women,  and 
thirty-six  girls."  Probably  the  heads  of  these  fami- 
lies were  the  men  referred  to  as  Old  Comers  or  First 
Comers;  namely,  those  who  had  arrived  in  the  first 
three  ships  that  brought  colonists  from  England  — 
the  Mayflower,  the  Fortune,  and  the  Anne  and  her 
consort.  "  The  Purchasers  put  their  business  into  the 
hands  of  the  eight  men  who  had  become  the  Colony's 


42  OLD  CAPE  COD 

bondsmen  to  the  Adventurers,  and  the  trade  of  the 
Colony  was  thereafter  conducted  by  these  eight  lead- 
ing Pilgrims,  who  were  known  as  Undertakers.'* 

There  is  the  framework  of  their  polity;  its  sure  foun- 
dation that  they  were  "straitly  tied  to  all  care  of  each 
other's  good  and  of  the  whole  by  everyone;  and  so 
mutually "  —  the  bedrock  requirement  for  the  suc- 
cessful working  of  any  cooperative  scheme.  There  was 
no  playing  of  favorites:  each  man  worked;  each 
man,  if  for  no  more  than  his  own  sake,  must  work 
with  good-will.  "The  people,"  Robinson  had  written 
of  them,  "are  for  the  body  of  them  industrious  and 
frugal,  we  think  we  may  safely  say,  as  any  company 
of  people  in  the  world."  He  knew  intimately  the  men 
of  whom  he  spoke.  They  were  "common  people"  as 
compared  with  some  of  the  aristocrats  of  Massachu- 
setts Bay;  yet  on  the  Mayflower  roster  appeared 
"masters,"  "servants,"  and  "artisans";  and  each  in 
his  degree  contributed  to  the  public  welfare.  Action 
they  constantly  matched  up  with  their  professed  atti- 
tude to  God,  with  the  result  that  if  the  expression  of 
their  belief  were  of  an  ancient  pattern,  the  practice 
of  it  would  stand  well  with  the  liberalism  of  to-day. 

The  first  year  of  the  little  colony  was  difficult 
enough,  and  before  the  winter  was  over  they  might 
have  starved  had  it  not  been  for  the  fisheries  and  the 
kindness  of  their  Indian  neighbors.  Yet  of  their  neigh- 
bors' good-will  they  were  not  too  confident,  and  they 
levelled  the  graves  of  their  dead  lest  the  number  should 
be  known  to  the  Indians,  and  for  the  discourage- 
ment of  prospective  colonists.  Before  the  spring  was 


THE  OLD  COLONY  43 

over,  one  half  of  the  one  hundred  and  two  souls  that 
sailed  by  the  Mayflower  had  died,  and  of  the  eighteen 
women  only  four  survived  the  hardships  of  the  first 
six  months.  Yet  they  would  not  lose  heart.  "It  is  not 
with  us  as  with  other  men  whom  small  things  can  dis- 
courage or  small  discontentments  cause  to  wish  them- 
selves home  again,"  William  Brewster  and  John  Rob- 
inson had  declared.  "If  we  should  be  driven  to  return, 
we  should  not  hope  to  recover  our  present  helps  and 
comforts,  neither  indeed  look  ever  for  ourselves  to  at- 
tain unto  the  like  in  any  other  place  during  our  lives." 
Wherein  one  may  read  how  bitter  had  been  the  years 
of  their  exile,  how  constant  their  longing  for  freedom 
and  the  abiding  comfort  of  justice.  They  meant  now 
to  hold  on  and  succeed,  and  if  possible  to  encourage 
others  to  join  them,  in  the  place  where  their  own  cour- 
age and  initiative  had  set  them;  for  it  seems  to  have 
been  a  fact  that  the  Pilgrims  displayed  not  only  in- 
domitable spirit  in  their  optimistic  reports  to  corre- 
spondents in  the  old  country,  but  also  the  considered 
policy  of  shrewd  men  who  would  enlist  recruits  for 
their  enterprise.  Even  their  critic,  John  Smith,  was 
moved  to  admiration  for  these  men  who,  to  be  sure, 
had  invited  trouble  by  "accident,  ignorance,  and 
wilfulness,"  yet  "have  endured,  with  a  wonderful 
patience  many  losses  and  extremities."  And  he  mar- 
vels that  "they  subsist  and  prosper  so  well,  not  any 
of  them  will  abandon  the  country,  but  to  the  utmost 
of  their  powers  increase  their  numbers." 

Somehow,  in  spite  of  sickness  and  death  and  short 
rations,  they  won  through  the  dark  months  of  that 


44  OLD  CAPE  COD 

first  winter,  and  fortunately  for  them  the  spring  broke 
early.  On  March  19  and  20,  "we  digged  our  grounds 
and  sowed  our  garden  seeds";  and  these  Yorkshire 
farmers,  at  any  cost,  must  have  been  glad  to  be  out 
in  the  open  again  planting  their  seeds.  "I  never  in  my 
life  remember  a  more  seasonable  year  than  we  have 
here  enjoyed,"  Winslow  had  the  courage  to  write  in 
his  "Brief  and  True  Declaration."  "For  the  temper  of 
the  air  here,  it  agreeth  well  with  that  in  England,  and 
if  there  be  any  difference  at  all,  this  is  somewhat 
hotter  in  summer.  Some  think  it  to  be  colder  in  winter, 
but  I  cannot  out  of  experience  so  say.  The  air  is  very 
clear  and  not  foggy,  as  hath  been  reported."  It  is  a 
cheerful  report,  persuasive  reading  for  would-be  col- 
onists, that  Winslow  sent  back  to  England  by  the 
Fortune  which,  in  the  autumn  of  1621,  brought  over 
the  Pilgrims  that  had  perforce  remained  behind  when 
the  Speedwell  broke  down.  And  among  the  new  colo- 
nists was  one  William  Hilton,  who  was  so  pleased  with 
the  prospect  that  he  sent  back  post-haste  for  his 
family. 

"Loving  cousin,"  wrote  he,  "At  our  arrival  .  .  .  we 
found  all  our  friends  and  planters  in  good  health, 
though  they  were  left  sicke  and  weake  with  very  small 
meanes,  the  Indians  round  about  us  peaceable  and 
friendly,  the  country  very  pleasant  and  temperate, 
yeelding  naturally  of  itself  great  store  of  fruites.  We 
are  all  free-holders,  the  rent  day  doth  not  trouble  us; 
and  all  of  those  good  blessings  we  have,  of  which  and 
what  we  list  in  their  seasons  for  taking.  Our  companie 
are  for  the  most  part  very  religious  honest  people;  the 


THE  OLD  COLONY  45 

word  of  God  sincerely  taught  us  every  Sabbath:  so 
that  I  know  not  anything  a  contented  mind  can  here 
want.  I  desire  your  friendly  care  to  send  my  wife  and 
children  to  me,  where  I  wish  all  the  friends  I  have  in 
England,  and  so  I  rest  Your  loving  kinsman." 

William  Hilton  had  arrived  in  time  for  the  celebra- 
tion of  their  first  Thanksgiving  Day,  which  was  kept 
after  the  kindly  manner  of  the  Harvest  Home  in  Old 
England.  Here  is  Winslow's  description  of  the  fes- 
tivity: "Our  harvest  being  gotten  in,  our  Governor 
sent  four  men  on  fowling,  that  so  we  might,  after  a 
more  special  manner,  rejoice  together  after  we  had 
gathered  the  fruit  of  our  labours.  They  four  in  a  day 
killed  as  much  fowl  as,  with  a  little  help  besides,  served 
the  company  almost  a  week.  At  which  time  amongst 
other  recreations,  we  exercised  our  arms,  many  of  the 
Indians  coming  amongst  us.  And  amongst  the  rest 
their  greatest  king,  Massasoy  t,  with  some  ninety  men, 
whom  for  three  days  we  entertained  and  feasted. 
And  they  went  out  and  killed  five  deer,  which  they 
brought  to  the  Plantation,  and  bestowed  on  our  Gov- 
ernor, and  upon  the  Captain  and  others.  And  although 
it  be  not  always  so  plentiful  as  it  was  at  this  time  with 
us;  yet  by  the  goodness  of  God,  we  are  so  far  from 
want  that  we  often  wish  you  partakers  of  our  plenty." 
A  memorable  feast;  and  twenty-five  years  later  Brad- 
ford wrote:  "Nor  has  there  been  any  general  want  of 
food  amongst  us  since  to  this  day."  The  fine  healthy 
temper  of  the  pioneers  shines  out  in  these  simple 
words  —  the  words  of  men  who  could  pass  lightly 
over  the  uncertainties  and  privations  of  that  first 


46  OLD  CAPE  COD 

difficult  winter,  when  more  than  once  it  must  have 
seemed  to  them  that  all  their  hope  and  labor  were  in 
vain  and  their  adventure  doomed,  to  emphasize  only 
the  good  things  that  had  come  to  them. 

And  Robert  Cushman  who,  with  his  family, 
arrived  by  the  Fortune,  sent  report  back  to  his  "lov- 
ing friends  the  Adventurers  of  New  England"  that 
New  England  it  was  not  only  because  Prince  Charles 
had  named  it  so, but  "because of  the  resemblance  that 
is  in  it  of  England,  the  native  soil  of  Englishmen;  it 
being  much  the  same  for  heat  and  cold  in  summer  and 
winter;  it  being  champaign  ground,  but  no  high 
mountains,  somewhat  like  the  soil  in  Kent  and  Essex; 
full  of  dales  and  meadow  ground,  full  of  rivers  and 
sweet  springs,  as  England  is." 

IV 

THE  country  was  sparsely  settled  by  natives:  for 
some  four  years  earlier  an  "unwanted  plague,"  an  act 
of  God  the  pious  might  have  been  excused  for  judg- 
ing it  to  sweep  the  country  bare  for  the  uses  of  white 
immigrants,  had  all  but  depopulated  the  coast  from 
the  Penobscot  to  Narragansett.  The  vicinity  of 
Plymouth,  in  particular,  had  been  affected,  and  when 
Squanto  was  returned  there  by  Dermer,  he  found  all 
his  kinsmen  dead.  It  is  said  that  a  short  time  before 
the  calamity,  the  Nausets,  making  reprisals  on  a  ship- 
wrecked French  crew  for  the  kidnapping  activities  of 
the  whites,  had  been  promised  by  one  of  their  victims 
the  vengeance  of  the  white  man's  God  who  would 
surely  destroy  them  and  give  over  their  country  to  his 


THE  OLD  COLONY  47 

people.  'We  are  too  many  for  him  to  destroy," 
boasted  the  Indians.  But  when  the  plague  wasted 
them,  and  the  arrival  of  the  Mayflower  might  be  held 
as  confirmation  of  the  prophecy,  their  assurance  may 
have  weakened.  It  seemed  that  the  white  man's  God 
might  have  more  power  than  they  supposed;  and 
perhaps  that  futile  flight  of  arrows  at  the  First  En- 
counter was  no  more  than  a  half-hearted  protest  at 
the  decree  of  fate.  The  natives  had  some  pretty  super- 
stitions of  their  own — as  to  the  discovery  of  Nan- 
tucket,  for  instance,  which,  they  told  the  English- 
men, had  been  quite  unknown  until  many  moons 
earlier  when  a  great  bird  had  borne  off  in  his  talons  so 
many  children  from  the  south  shore  that  a  giant,  one 
Maushope,  moved  with  pity,  had  waded  out  into  the 
sea  and  followed  the  bird  to  the  island  where  he 
found  the  bones  of  the  ravished  children  under  a  tree. 
Whereupon,  recognizing  the  futility  of  regret,  he  sat 
him  down  to  smoke,  and  the  smoke  was  borne  back 
across  the  waters  he  had  traversed  —  the  true  origin 
of  fog  in  the  Sound.  And  Indians,  as  it  drove  in  from 
sea,  would  say:  "There  comes  old  Maushope's 
smoke.'*  Another  story  has  it  that  Nan  tucket  Was 
formed  of  the  ashes  from  Maushope's  pipe;  but  that 
the  island  was  discovered  by  the  parents  of  a  papoose 
that  was  borne  off  by  an  eagle.  They  followed  fast  in 
their  canoe,  but  not  fast  enough,  for  they  were  only 
in  time  to  find  the  bones  of  their  child  heaped  under 
a  tree  in  the  hitherto  unknown  land  of  Nantucket. 

The  Plymouth  settlers  seem  to  have  encountered 
no  great  opposition  from  the  natives  who,  although 


48  OLD  CAPE  COD 

shy  and  suspicious  as  might  be  any  creatures  of  the 
forest,  were  responsive  to  the  just  dealing  that  was 
the  considered  policy  of  the  Pilgrims;  and  on  both 
sides  there  was  an  impulse  to  friendliness  tempered, 
however,  by  the  ineradicable  racial  instinct  to  be 
wary  of  whatever  is  strange.  Within  a  few  months  the 
settlers  had  concluded  a  treaty  with  Massasoit,  the 
great  overlord  of  the  region.  And  Samoset,  who  had 
learned  a  little  English  from  traders,  soon  presented 
himself  with  his  friendly  greeting:  "Welcome,  Eng- 
lishmen, welcome."  And  Squanto,  from  the  first,  was 
their  faithful  interpreter.  The  remnants  of  the  Cape 
tribes,  the  Cummaquids,  the  Nausets,  and  Pamets, 
scattered  among  their  little  settlements  from  Sand- 
wich to  Truro  —  Mashpee,  Sacuton,  Cummaquid, 
Mattacheesett,  Nobscusset,  Monomoyick,  Sequau- 
tucket,  Nauset,  and  Pamet  —  were,  save  the  Nausets 
possibly,  a  singularly  gentle  race.  Nor  were  the  Nau- 
sets, when  it  was  well  within  their  power  once,  dis- 
posed to  take  vengeance  upon  a  boy. 

In  July,  1621,  young  John  Billington  set  out  from 
Plymouth  to  do  some  independent  exploring;  nor  was 
this  the  first  escapade  of  the  Billington  family.  Back 
there  at  Provincetown,  one  morning,  John's  brother 
Francis  was  like  to  have  blown  up  the  Mayflower  by 
firing  off  a  fowling-piece  in  the  cabin  where  there  was 
an  open  keg  of  powder.  "By  God's  mercy,  no  harm 
was  done."  The  Billingtons  seem  to  have  been  among 
the  undesirables  of  the  Mayflower:  the  father  "I 
know  not  by  what  friends  shuffled  into  our  company," 
Bradford  writes  of  him.  And  later,  in  1G30,  the  man 


THE  OLD  COLONY  49 

was  hanged  for  murder.  But  the  settlers  were  not 
men  to  leave  young  John  to  his  fate;  yet  search  as 
they  would,  they  could  find  no  trace  of  him  until 
Indians  brought  in  rumors  of  a  white  lad  roaming 
about  the  Cape.  Ten  men,  with  two  Indians  as  inter- 
preters, set  sail  for  Barnstable  Bay,  and  asked  news 
of  the  boy  from  some  natives  catching  lobsters  there. 
Yes,  such  a  boy  was  known  to  be  with  the  Nausets, 
and  the  company  was  invited  to  land.  They  were  wel- 
comed by  lyanough,  sachem  of  the  Cummaquids,  "a 
man,"  wrote  Edward  Winslow  of  him,  "not  exceeding 
twenty-six  years  of  age,  but  very  personable,  gentle, 
courteous  and  fair-conditioned;  indeed,  not  like  a 
savage  except  in  his  attire.  His  entertainment  was 
answerable  to  his  parts,  and  his  cheer  plentiful  and 
various."  And  here  at  Cummaquid  they  saw  a  woman, 
upwards  of  a  hundred  years  old,  who  was  mother  of 
three  of  Hunt's  victims  and  bewailed  the  loss  of  her 
sons  so  piteously  that  the  visitors  sought  to  comfort 
her  not  only  with  futile  words,  but  with  a  gift  of 
"some  small  trifles  which  somewhat  appeased  her." 
And  after  partaking  of  the  "plentiful  and  various 
cheer,"  they  set  out  again,  with  lyanough  himself  and 
two  of  his  men  as  a  guard  of  honor,  and  grounded 
their  boat  near  the  Nauset  shore.  But  they  did  not 
land,  and  after  some  cautious  interchange  of  civilities, 
Aspinet,  the  sachem  there,  brought  the  boy,  whom  he 
"had  bedecked  like  a  salvage,"  and  "behung  with 
beads,"  out  to  their  boat.  And  through  Aspinet,  the 
Plymouth  men  arranged  to  pay  for  the  seed  corn  they 
had  taken  from  his  cache  on  Corn  Hill  in  the  previous 


50  OLD  CAPE  COD 

November.  Returning  with  lyanough  to  Cummaquid, 
there  was  further  "entertainment":  the  women  and 
children  joined  hands  in  a  dance  before  them ;  lyanough 
himself  led  the  way  through  the  darkness  to  a  spring 
where  they  might  fill  their  water  cask ;  he  hung  his  own 
necklace  about  the  neck  of  an  Englishman.  And  the 
party  set  out  for  home  with  due  reciprocation  of  cour- 
tesy, but  were  hindered  by  tide  and  wind,  and  again 
returned,  and  again  were  welcomed  by  the  natives. 
Truly,  a  fine  adventure  for  young  John  Billington. 

This  expedition  seems  to  have  cemented  a  friendly 
understanding  with  the  Cape  Indians.  In  November, 
when  the  Fortune  was  sighted  off  the  Cape  and  the 
Indians  feared  she  might  be  a  hostile  French  ship, 
they  warned  Plymouth  in  time  for  the  townsmen  to 
prepare  for  possible  attack.  And  the  natives  were 
always  ready  to  supplement  the  settlers'  scanty  stock 
of  food,  which,  but  for  them,  would  have  had  no  other 
variety  than  game  from  the  forest  and  fish  from  the 
sea.  Not  that  the  pious  were  unmindful  of  such  mer- 
cies. "Thanks  to  God  who  has  given  us  to  suck  of 
the  abundance  of  the  seas  and  of  treasure  hid  in  the 
sands,"  was  the  grace  said  over  a  dish  of  clams  to 
which  a  neighbor  had  been  invited.  But  for  the  fruits 
of  the  earth  they  were  chiefly  dependent  upon  the 
savages.  "The  cheapest  corn  they  planted  at  first 
was  Indian  grain,  before  they  had  ploughs,"  runs  the 
record.  "  And  let  no  man  make  a  jest  at  pumpkins,  for 
with  this  food  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  feed  his  peo- 
ple to  their  good  content  till  corn  and  cattle  were 
increased." 


THE  OLD  COLONY  51 

"We  have  pumpkins  at  morning,  and  pumpkins  at  noon. 
If  it  were  not  for  pumpkins,  we  should  be  undone." 

The  first  harvest  was  not  sufficient  for  the  winter's 
need,  and  in  November  a  company  under  William 
Bradford  set  out  in  the  Swan  —  a  boat  lent  by  their 
neighbors  of  Weymouth,  who  had  had  no  small  share 
in  depleting  their  supplies  —  for  a  coasting  trip 
around  the  Cape  to  trade  knives  and  beads  for  corn. 
With  them  was  their  interpreter  Squanto;  and  this 
was  to  prove  poor  Squanto's  last  voyage,  for  at 
Monomoyick  (Chatham)  he  was  taken  ill  and  died. 
At  Monomoyick  eight  hogsheads  of  corn  and  beans 
were  stowed  away  on  the  Swan;  at  Mattacheesett 
(Barnstable  or  Yarmouth)  and  Nauset  an  additional 
supply  was  had.  But  at  Nauset,  where  a  few  men  had 
run  in  shore  in  the  shallop,  their  boat  was  wrecked, 
and  caching  the  stores,  the  party  procured  a  guide 
and  set  out  overland  for  Plymouth,  while  their  com- 
panions in  the  Swan  proceeded  by  sea.  In  January 
£>tandish  took  the  lead  in  another  expedition  by  boat, 
recovered  and  repaired  the  wrecked  shallop  at  Nau- 
set, brusquely  demanded  restitution  of  the  Indians 
for  "some  trifles"  he  charged  them  with  stealing, 
and  then  and  afterwards  at  Mattacheesett  where  he 
made  a  like  charge,  received  the  articles  and  ample 
apology  from  their  chiefs. 

All  visitors  to  these  shores  seem  to  be  agreed  on 
the  thievish  propensities  of  the  natives:  Gosnold's 
chronicler  remarks  that  they  are  "more  timerous" 
than  those  to  the  north,  but  thievish;  Champlain 
thought  them  of  "good  disposition,  better  than  those 


52  OLD  CAPE  COD 

of  the  north,  but  they  are  all  in  fact  of  no  great 
worth.  They  are  great  thieves  and  if  they  cannot  lay 
hold  of  anything  with  their  hands,  they  try  to  do  so 
with  their  feet."  He  adds,  charitably:  "I  am  of  opin- 
ion that  if  they  had  anything  to  exchange  with  us, 
they  would  not  give  themselves  to  thieving."  The 
fact  seems  to  have  been  that  these  children  of  nature 
could  not  resist  the  lure  of  any  unguarded  bits  of 
treasure;  but  Miles  Standish  was  not  the  man  to 
enter  into  psychological  elucidations  of  behavior, 
and  at  Mattacheesett,  as  at  Nauset,  he  suspected  the 
natives  of  treachery  as  well  as  thieving,  and  kept 
strict  watch  while  they  filled  his  shallop  with  grain. 
In  the  following  month,  March,  he  had  still  more 
reason,  he  thought,  to  question  the  friendly  intention 
of  the  chief  Canacum  at  Manomet,  or  Bourne,  who, 
however,  one  bitter  cold  night  had  suitably  enter- 
tained Bradford's  party  and  sold  them  the  corn  which 
Standish  had  come  to  fetch.  Standish's  suspicions 
increased  to  certainty  when  two  Massachusetts  In- 
dians joined  the  company  and  one  of  them  began  a 
tirade  to  Canacum  which  afterwards  was  known  to  be 
a  complaint  of  outrages  committed  by  the  English  at 
Weymouth  and  a  plea  to  cut  off  Standish  and  his  hand- 
ful of  men.  Winslow  writes  that  there  was  also  "a 
lusty  Indian  of  Pawmet,  or  Cape  Cod,  there  present, 
who  had  ever  demeaned  himself  well  towards  us, 
being  in  his  general  carriage  very  affable,  courteous, 
and  loving,  especially  towards  the  captain."  But 
"this  savage  was  now  entered  into  confederacy  with 
the  rest,  yet  to  avoid  suspicion,  made  many  signs  of 


THE  OLD  COLONY  53 

his  continued  affection,  and  would  needs  bestow  a 
kettle  of  some  six  or  eight  gallons  on  him,  and  would 
not  accept  anything  in  lieu  thereof,  saying  he  was 
rich,  and  could  afford  to  bestow  such  favors  on  his 
friends  whom  he  loved."  Now  a  kettle  was  one  of  an 
Indian's  most  precious  possessions,  and  very  likely 
the  Pamet,  when  he  heard  the  treachery  afoot,  offered 
it  merely  as  an  extravagant  pledge  of  friendship;  but 
when  he  demeaned  himself  to  help  the  women  whom 
Standish  had  bribed  to  load  his  cargo,  the  captain 
merely  saw  there  another  proof  of  perfidy.  The  Eng- 
lishmen spent  an  anxious  night  in  their  bivouac  on 
the  beach;  but  when  morning  broke  embarked  safely, 
and  with  their  corn  made  the  return  trip  to  Plymouth. 
Whether  or  not  incited  thereto  by  intolerable 
wrongs,  Indians  of  the  mainland  had  begun  to  make 
trouble,  and  information  now  came  to  the  Pilgrims, 
through  their  ally,  Massasoit,  of  a  plot  against  the 
whites  in  which  not  only  Indians  near  Weymouth, 
but  some  of  the  Cape  Indians,  were  said  to  be  impli- 
cated. Weston's  colony  of  adventurers  there  had 
from  the  first  been  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  Plymouth; 
but  when  one  of  the  Weymouth  men,  eluding  the 
Indians,  made  his  way  across  country  to  report  the 
dangerous  conditions  there  Standish  waited  not  upon 
the  order  of  his  going.  With  eight  whites  and  an  In- 
dian guide,  he  set  sail  for  Weymouth,  where  he  seems 
to  have  met  with  little  resistance,  and  having  slain  a 
due  number  of  the  savages,  returned  to  Plymouth 
with  the  head  of  their  chief,  Wittaumet,  "a  notable 
insulting  villain,"  as  a  trophy.  Very  likely  thereby  a 


54  OLD  CAPE  COD 

serious  rising  of  the  natives  was  averted.  To  Wittau- 
met's  men  a  white  was  a  white;  it  was  all  one  to  them 
whether  he  were  blameless  Pilgrim  or  Merrymount 
royster;  and  as  for  the  Patuxets  and  Pamets  and  Nau- 
sets,  we  know  they  had  old  scores  to  settle.  It  is  true, 
moreover,  that  any  long  contact  of  Indians  and 
whites  was  fairly  sure  to  end  in  a  quarrel  and  blood- 
letting. And  if  the  purpose  of  Standish's  expedition 
was  to  create  terror,  it  was  a  success.  Natives  of  the 
seacoast,  whom  the  plague  had  spared,  innocent  and 
guilty,  fled  to  the  swamps  and  waste  places,  where 
disease  attacked  them  more  effectually  than  the  Eng- 
lish could  have  done,  and  many  of  them  died ;  among 
them  Canacum  of  Manomet,  Aspinet  of  the  Nausets, 
and  even  the  "princely"  lyanough,  who  seems  to  have 
been  blameless  in  intention  and  act.  More  than  two 
hundred  and  fifty  years  later,  the  bones  of  a  chief 
were  discovered  near  a  swamp  in  East  Barnstable, 
and,  believed  to  be  those  of  lyanough,  were  encased 
suitably  and  placed  in  Pilgrim  Hall  near  relics  of 
Miles  Standish  who  had  as  surely  done  him  to  death 
as  if  slain  by  his  hand.  The  name  of  lyanough  is  pre- 
served in  that  of  the  modern  town  of  Hyannis. 

How  much  fault  in  all  this  deplorable  business  may 
be  charged  to  Miles  Standish,  one  may  not  say.  He 
was  not  a  "Pilgrim,"  nor  of  their  faith,  but  from  the 
first,  on  account  of  his  experience  and  skill,  had  been 
chosen  for  their  military  leader.  Hubbard  writes  of 
him:  "A  little  chimney  is  soon  fired;  so  was  the  Ply- 
mouth captain,  a  man  of  small  stature,  yet  of  a  very 
hot  and  angry  temper."  And  when  wise  John  Robin- 


THE  OLD  COLONY  55 

son,  at  Leyden,  heard  of  Standish's  bloody  reprisals, 
he  wrote  the  brethren  at  Plymouth  that  he  "trusted 
the  Lord  had  sent  him  among  them  for  good,  but 
feared  he  was  wanting  in  that  tenderness  of  the  life 
of  man,  made  after  God's  image,  which  was  meet;  and 
thought  it  would  have  been  better  if  they  had  con- 
verted some  before  they  killed  any." 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  TOWNS 

I 

WHETHER  just  or  not,  the  summary  punishment 
dealt  out  by  Standish  all  but  destroyed  the  natives' 
confidence  in  the  whites;  and  as  such  a  situation  was 
particularly  bad  for  trade,  the  whites,  too,  got  their 
reward.  Yet  the  Indians,  when  occasion  offered,  were 
ready  to  be  kind.  In  December,  1G26,  the  ship  Spar- 
rowhawk,  London  to  Virginia,  as  far  out  of  her  reck- 
oning as  the  Mayflower  had  been,  bumped  over  the 
shoals  of  Monomoyick  and  grounded  on  the  flats.  Her 
master  was  ill,  crew  and  passengers  knew  not  where 
they  were,  and  being  out  of  "wood,  water,  and  beer," 
had  run  her,  head  on,  for  the  first  land  that  hove  in 
sight.  Night  was  falling,  and  as  canoes  made  out  from 
the  shore,  "they  stood  on  their  guard."  But  the  Indians 
gave  them  a  friendly  hail,  asked  if  they  were  "the 
governor  of  Plymouth's  men,"  offered  to  carry  letters 
to  Plymouth,  and  supplied  their  needs  of  the  moment. 
Plymouth  duly  notified,  the  Governor  led  out  a  relief 
expedition,  and,  it  being  no  season  to  round  the  Cape, 
landed  at  Namskaket,  a  creek  between  Brewster  and 
Orleans,  "whence  it  was  not  much  above  two  miles 
across  the  Cape  to  the  bay  where  the  ship  lay.  The 
Indians  carried  the  things  we  brought  overland  to  the 
ship."  The  Governor  bought  corn  from  the  natives  for 


THE  TOWNS  57 

the  strangers,  loaded  more  for  his  own  use,  and  re- 
turned to  Plymouth.  But  hardly  was  he  there  than  a 
second  message  came  that  the  ship,  fitted  out  to  pro- 
ceed, had  been  shattered  by  a  great  storm;  and  the  up- 
shot was  that  the  travellers,  bag  and  baggage,  came  to 
Plymouth  and  visited  there  until  the  spring.  The  re- 
gion of  the  wreck  was  called  "Old  Ship  Harbor,"  men 
had  forgotten  why  until,  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
seven  years  later,  shifting  sands  disclosed  the  hull  of 
the  Sparrowhawk.  And  at  another  time  the  natives  had 
opportunity  to  show  their  good-will  when  Richard 
Garratt  and  his  company  from  Boston,  which  was 
rival  of  Plymouth  for  the  native  corn  supply,  were  cast 
away  on  the  Cape  in  a  bitter  winter  storm;  and  all 
would  have  perished  there  had  it  not  been  for  the 
savages  who  decently  buried  the  dead,  though  the 
ground  was  frozen  deep,  and,  having  nursed  the  sur- 
vivors back  to  life,  guided  them  to  Plymouth. 

Plymouth  trade,  not  only  with  the  mother  country, 
but  with  other  colonies,  grew  apace.  As  early  as  1627, 
in  order  to  facilitate  communication  to  the  southward 
with  the  Indians  and  with  the  Dutch  settlement  on 
the  Hudson,  the  Pilgrims  may  be  said  to  have  made 
the  first  move  toward  a  Cape  Cod  Canal.  "To  avoid 
the  compassing  of  Cape  Cod  and  those  dangerous 
shoals,"  wrote  Bradford,  "and  so  to  make  any  voy- 
age to  the  southward  in  much  shorter  time  and  with 
less  danger,"  they  established  a  trading  post  with  a 
farm  to  support  it,  and  built  a  pinnace,  at  Manomet 
on  the  river  flowing  into  Buzzard's  Bay.  Their  route 
lay  by  boat  from  Plymouth  to  Scusset  Harbor,  where 


58  OLD  CAPE  COD 

they  landed  their  goods  for  a  portage  overland  of 
three  or  four  miles  to  the  navigable  waters  of  the 
river  and  the  coasting  vessel  there.  And  in  Septem- 
ber of  that  same  year,  Isaac  de  Rasieres,  secretary  of 
the  Dutch  Government  at  New  Amsterdam,  landed 
at  Manomet  with  sugar,  stuffs,  and  other  commodi- 
ties, and  was  duly  convoyed  to  Plymouth  in  a  vessel 
sent  out  by  the  Governor  for  such  purpose.  De  Ra- 
sieres entered  Plymouth  in  state,  "honorably  at- 
tended by  the  noise  of  his  trumpeters,"  and  wrote  a 
fine  account  of  the  town  which  is  preserved  for  our 
interest. 

The  colony,  by  1637,  had  grown  to  comprise  the 
towns  of  Plymouth,  Duxbury,  and  Scituate;  in  no  long 
time  it  included  the  present  counties  of  Plymouth, 
Bristol,  and  Barnstable,  and  a  bit  of  Rhode  Island. 
Traders,  fishermen,  an  adventurer  now  and  again  had 
visited  the  Cape,  even  a  few  settlers,  unauthorized  by 
Plymouth,  had  broken  ground  there;  but  up  to  1637 
its  early  history  is  indissolubly  bound  up  with  that  of 
Plymouth.  In  April  of  that  year  the  first  settlement  was 
organized  at  Sandwich  when  certain  men  of  Saugus, 
who  were  of  a  broader  mind  than  their  neighbors  of 
Massachusetts  Bay,  wished  to  emigrate  to  the  milder 
rule  of  Plymouth.  Under  due  restrictions,  they  were 
granted  the  privilege  to  "view  a  place  to  sit  down,  and 
have  sufficient  land  for  three  score  families."  They 
chose  Sandwich.  And  with  the  first  ten  of  Saugus  came 
fifty  others  of  Saugus  and  Duxbury  and  Plymouth. 
All  was  duly  regulated ;  and  two  men  who  were  found 
clearing  ground  without  permission,  and  without 


THE  TOWNS  59 

having  fetched  their  families,  were  charged  with  "dis- 
orderly keeping  house  alone."  If  the  Saugus  men  ex- 
pected a  free  hand  in  their  new  home,  they  were  to 
be  undeceived:  the  chief  ordering  of  their  affairs  was 
from  Plymouth,  and  in  1638  certain  prominent  towns- 
men were  fined  as  "being  deficient  in  arms"  and  for 
not  having  their  swine  ringed.  It  was  the  law  of  the 
colony  "that  no  persons  shall  be  allowed  to  become 
housekeepers  until  they  are  completely  provided  with 
arms  and  ammunition;  nor  shall  any  be  allowed 
to  become  housekeepers,  or  to  build  any  cottage  or 
dwelling,  without  permission  from  the  governor  and 
assistants."  Rightly,  no  doubt,  Plymouth  meant  to 
avoid  the  danger  of  any  such  disorderly  element  as 
had  infested  Weymouth. 

In  March  John  Alden  and  Miles  Standish  were  di- 
rected to  go  to  Sandwich,  "with  all  convenient  speed, 
and  set  forth  the  bounds  of  the  land  granted  there." 
In  October  Thomas  Prince  and  again  Miles  Standish 
were  appointed  to  pass  upon  questions  affecting  land 
tenure.  Complaint,  however,  seems  to  have  been  then 
not  so  much  in  regard  to  the  division  of  land  as  to  cer- 
tain members  of  the  community  who  were  deemed 
"unfit  for  church  society."  And  for  the  adjustment 
of  future  dangers,  "evils  or  discords  that  may  happen 
in  the  disposal  of  lands  or  other  occasions  within  the 
town,"  it  was  agreed  that  some  one  of  the  Governor's 
Council  should  sit,  in  an  advisory  capacity,  with  the 
town  committee  to  determine  who  should  be  permitted 
to  hold  land.  John  Alden  and  Miles  Standish  served 
many  times  as  such  advisers;  in  1650  Standish  re- 


60  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ceived  a  tract  of  some  forty  acres  for  his  trouble  in 
settling  land  disputes.  It  is  interesting  that  Freeman, 
historian  of  Cape  Cod,  claims  Priscilla  Mullins  for 
Barnstable,  and  allows  us  to  suppose  that  the  visits 
there  of  Alden  and  Standish  led  to  the  acquaint- 
ance that  ended  in  the  discomfiture  of  Standish,  and 
to  the  particular  glory  of  Priscilla,  with  her  thrust: 
"Why  don't  you  speak  for  yourself,  John?"  Another 
love  story  is  told  by  Amos  Otis,  in  his  "Barnstable 
Families,"  of  Thomas  Hatch,  who  was  among  the  first 
landowners  in  Yarmouth  and  Barnstable,  a  widower 
and  rival  with  another  for  the  hand  of  a  neighbor's 
daughter.  All  three  were  expert  reapers,  and  Grace 
agreed  to  marry  the  man  who  should  worst  her  in  the 
field.  Three  equal  portions  were  set  off  and  the  con- 
test began;  but  when  Grace  saw  that  she  was  likely 
to  come  out  ahead,  with  Thomas  a  bad  third,  she  slyly 
cut  over  into  his  plot;  and  he,  fired  by  such  encourage- 
ment, justified  her  favor. 

The  system  of  government  and  land  tenure  in  the 
later  settlements  were  patterned  after  Plymouth: 
there  were  individual  holdings  of  land  and  common 
lands  which  from  time  to  time  were  apportioned  to 
the  townsmen,  not  only  in  accord  with  "necessity  and 
ability,"  but "  estate  and  quality  " :  fertile  ground,  one 
might  guess,  for  difference  of  opinion.  By  1C51,  at 
Sandwich,  "the  conditions  on  which  the  grant  of  the 
township  was  made  having  been  fulfilled,  a  deed  of 
the  plantation  was  executed  by  Governor  Bradford  to 
Mr.  Edmund  Freeman,  who  made  conveyance  to  his 
associates,"  a  process  which  resembled  the  taking  over 


THE  TOWNS  61 

of  Plymouth  from  the  Merchant  Adventurers  of 
London. 

Within  a  few  years,  on  the  general  conditions  of 
settlement  granted  to  Sandwich,  the  four  original 
townships  of  the  Cape  came  into  being.  Scattering 
colonists  had  broken  the  ground.  In  1638  "liberty  was 
granted  to  Stephen  Hopkins  [one  of  the  Mayflower 
men]  to  erect  a  house  at  Mattacheese  and  cut  hay 
there  this  year  to  winter  his  cattle — provided,  how- 
ever, that  it  be  not  to  withdraw  him  from  the  town 
of  Plymouth."  Two  other  men  were  granted  a  like 
privilege.  The  rich  salt  meadows  of  the  Cape  were 
coveted  by  Plymouth  for  cattle,  which  seem  to  have 
been  brought  over  from  England  first  by  Edward 
Winslow  in  a  voyage  made  in  1624;  and  it  was  not 
uncommon  later  for  cattle  to  be  sent  out  to  the  col- 
ony as  a  speculation,  for  one  half  the  profits  of  their 
increase. 

In  the  early  winter  of  1637-38  an  attempt  at  settle- 
ment was  made  in  a  portion  of  Barnstable  known  as 
"Old  Town,"  by  one  Stephen  Batchelor,  who  for  some 
twenty  years  was  a  stormy  petrel  among  the  clergy 
of  New  England.  In  1632,  at  the  age  of  seventy-one, 
lured  no  doubt  by  the  hope  of  freedom  —  there  were 
not  lacking  those  who  accused  him  of  license  —  he 
had  arrived  in  Boston  and  went  on  to  Lynn,  where  he 
was  soon  in  trouble  with  the  authorities.  "  The  cause," 
writes  Governor  Winthrop,  "was  for  that  coming 
out  from  England  with  a  small  body  of  six  or  seven 
persons,  and  having  since  received  in  many  more  at 
Saugus"  —  in  short,  his  flavor  of  liberalism  did  not 


62  OLD  CAPE  COD 

please  the  elders,  and  after  a  long  wrangle,  upon  his 
"promise  to  remove  out  of  town  within  three  months 
he  was  discharged."  It  is  said  that  among  the  settlers 
at  Sandwich  were  some  relatives  of  his  little  flock; 
and  whether  for  that  reason  or  not,  in  the  bitter  cold 
of  an  early  winter,  he  led  them,  on  foot,  the  weary 
hundred  miles  from  Lynn  to  Mattacheesett.  But  the 
settlement,  rashly  undertaken,  was  not  a  success,  and 
in  the  spring  Batchelor  was  off  to  Newbury.  Thence 
he  went  to  Hampton  and  Exeter,  and  at  eighty  was 
formally  excommunicated  by  the  Puritans.  His  life 
here  had  been  "one  constant  scene  of  turbulence,  dis- 
appointment, discipline  and  accusation,"  and  home 
again  in  England,  in  peace  we  may  hope  at  the  last, 
he  died  at  the  age  of  ninety. 

In  1639  came  the  formal  permission  to  settle  Yar- 
mouth. Stephen  Hopkins's  farm  was  incorporated  in 
the  new  settlement,  and  the  group  of  undertakers 
was  headed  by  Anthony  Thacher,  who  four  years 
previously  had  been  cast  away  on  Thacher's  Island, 
Cape  Ann,  in  a  memorable  storm.  His  children  were 
among  those  lost;  but  he  and  his  wife,  and,  quaintly, 
a  covering  of  embroidered  scarlet  broadcloth  that  is 
still  an  heirloom  in  the  family,  were  saved.  Thacher 
had  been  a  curate  of  Saint  Edmund's,  Salisbury,  and 
after  his  tragic  entry  into  the  country,  had  settled 
first  at  Newbury  and  then  at  Marblehead. 
f  In  the  early  part  of  1639  lands  in  Barnstable  were 
granted  by  Plymouth  on  the  usual  terms;  and  in 
October  of  that  year  some  twenty-five  families,  under 
the  leadership  of  the  Reverend  John  Lothrop,  came 


THE  TOWNS  63 

there  from  Scituate  that  had  become  "too  straite  for 
their  accommodation,"  a  phrase  which  meant  prob- 
ably that  in  the  growing  settlement  grazing  land  was 
becoming  restricted.  Lothrop  was  of  notable  personal- 
ity. A  man  of  Christ  Church,  Cambridge,  he  had  taken 
Anglican  orders  and  then  had  gone  over  to  the  In- 
dependents and  had  become  the  second  pastor  of  their 
church  in  London.  After  eight  years  there,  he  and 
fifty  of  his  congregation  were  arrested  and  imprisoned 
for  two  years;  but  in  1634,  in  company  with  some  of 
his  former  parishioners,  he  came  to  New  England  on 
the  same  ship,  as  it  chanced,  with  the  famous  Anne 
Hutchinson,  whose  chief  offence,  in  the  days  before 
persecution  swung  her  mind  awry,  seems  to  have  been 
a  disconcerting  personal  charm.  It  is  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  Mr.  Lothrop  may  not  have  enjoyed  his 
long  voyage  the  less  by  reason  of  such  a  fellow-travel- 
ler. In  December,  1639,  there  was  held  at  Barnstable, 
the  first  thanksgiving  service,  which  resembled  an 
earlier  celebration  of  the  same  congregation  at  Scitu- 
ate, when  after  prayer  and  praise,  so  Mr.  Lothrop  in- 
forms us,  there  was  "then  making  merry  to  the  crea- 
tures." At  Barnstable,  likewise,  "the  creatures"  were 
enjoyed  when  the  congregation  divided  into  "three 
companies  to  feast  together,  some  at  Mr.  Hull's,  some 
at  Mr.  Mayo's,  and  some  at  Brother  Lumbard, 
senior's."  Lothrop  was  a  man  of  vigorous  mind,  with 
some  worldly  wisdom  as  befitted  a  pioneer,  "prudent 
and  discreet";  he  was  learned,  tolerant,  kindly,  typi- 
cal of  the  early  leaders  in  town  affairs.  It  was  those  of 
the  second  and  third  generation,  when  the  fires  of 


64  OLD  CAPE  COD 

consecration  had  burned  low  and  the  influence  of 
Massachusetts  Bay  was  potent,  who  baited  their 
heretics;  and  then  men  said  of  old  Elder  Dimmock 
of  Barnstable  that  he  kept  to  the  teachings  of  his  be- 
loved pastor,  John  Lothrop,  and  "if  his  neighbor  was 
an  Anabaptist,  or  a  Quaker,  he  did  not  judge  him, 
because  he  held  that  to  be  a  prerogative  of  Deity 
which  man  had  no  right  to  assume."  Lothrop's  church 
members  needed  to  sign  no  creed  or  confession  of 
faith:  they  professed  belief  in  God  and  promised  their 
endeavor  to  keep  His  commands,  to  live  a  pure  life, 
and  to  walk  in  love  with  their  brothers. 

Lothrop's  ministry  at  Barnstable  had  its  smaller 
difficulties  that  are  not  peculiar  to  his  time.  Of  a 
jealous,  backbiting  woman  he  writes:  "Wee  had  long 
patience  towards  her,  and  used  all  courteous  intrea- 
tyes  and  persuations;  but  the  longer  wee  waited,  the 
worse  she  was."  The  woman,  "as  confidently  as  if  she 
had  a  spirit  of  Revelation,"  kept  to  her  slanders: 
"Mrs.  Dimmock  was  proud,  and  went  about  telling 
lies,"  so  did  Mrs.  Wells;  and  Mr.  Lothrop  and  Elder 
Cobb  "did  talk  of  her"  when  they  went  to  see  Mr. 
Huckins.  At  their  wits'  end  to  stop  her  slanders,  they 
very  likely  held  counsel  regarding  her.  She  was  "per- 
remtorye  in  all  her  carriages,"  the  harried  parson  af- 
firms, and  finally,  in  1649,  milder  measures  exhausted, 
she  was  excommunicated.  Another  trouble-maker  had 
come  with  the  first  settlers  from  Scituate.  He  had 
the  training  of  a  gentleman  and  knew  some  Latin,  we 
are  informed,  but  was  a  vulgar  creature  and  obstreper- 
ous of  manner.  He,  too,  was  excommunicated,  among 


THE  TOWNS  65 

the  lesser  reasons  given  therefor  that  he  was  "much 
given  to  Idleness,  and  too  much  jearing,"  and  "ob- 
served alsoe  by  some  to  bee  somewhat  proud."  Lo- 
throp,  in  his  record,  adds  that  William  Caseley  "took 
it  patiently,"  which,  belike,  was  but  another  manifes- 
tation of  William  Caseley's  arrogance. 

Lothrop  kept  in  touch  with  affairs  across  the  water; 
and  on  March  4,  1652,  appointed  a  day  of  "thanks- 
giving for  the  Lord's  powerful  working  for  Old  Eng- 
land by  Oliver  Cromwell  and  his  army,  against  the 
Scots."  He  loved  his  books,  and  by  his  will,  hi  1653, 
gave  one  to  each  child  in  the  village,  and  directed  that 
the  remainder  be  sold  "to  any  honest  man  who  could 
tell  how  to  use  it."  His  house  is  still  used  for  a  library. 

Another  bequest  of  public  import  was  that  of  An- 
drew Hallett,  of  Yarmouth,  first  of  the  name,  who  left 
a  heifer  and  her  progeny,  from  year  to  year,  to  the 
use  of  the  most  needy  in  the  town,  no  mean  loan  at  a 
time  when  a  cow  was  worth  a  farmstead.  Hallett,  in 
the  precise  classification  of  the  day,  was  rated  among 
the  few  "gentlemen."  He  speculated  in  land  as  did 
the  best  of  his  neighbors,  from  parson  to  cobbler,  and 
was  no  stranger  to  contests  at  law.  His  son  Andrew, 
though  a  gentleman's  son,  did  not  learn  to  write  until 
he  came  to  Yarmouth.  He  bought  of  Gyles  Hopkins  a 
house  which  without  doubt  was  that  built  by  Stephen 
in  1638,  the  first  built  here  by  whites  —  a  poor  thing, 
very  likely:  for  it  was  said  that  some  of  the  Indian 
wigwams  were  more  comfortable  than  many  houses 
built  by  the  English.  But  in  no  long  time  Hallett  was 
building  another  house  more  in  keeping  with  his  estate; 


66  OLD  CAPE  COD 

and  of  one  of  his  descendants  in  the  mid-eighteen  hun- 
dreds the  gracious  memory  was  preserved  that  he 
delighted  in  keeping  "great  fires  on  his  hearth."  An- 
drew Hallett,  the  younger,  unlike  his  father,  seems 
to  have  kept  clear  of  legal  entanglements,  and  though 
a  member  of  the  Yarmouth  church,  preferred  at  times 
to  sit  under  the  gentler  teaching  of  Mr.  Lothrop  of 
Barnstable. 

The  Reverend  Marmaduke  Matthews,  first  minis- 
ter of  Yarmouth,  was  a  fiery  Welshman,  witty,  but 
indiscreet  in  his  speech,  who  kept  his  parish  in  hot 
water  for  the  six  years  of  his  tenure.  He  quarrelled 
with  the  constable;  again,  four  of  his  opponents  were 
haled  before  the  court  as  "scoffers  and  jeerers  at  re- 
ligion and  making  disorders  at  town  meeting,"  and 
were  acquitted.  Some  schismatics  tried  to  form  a  new 
society  under  Mr.  Hull,  who  had  been  supplanted  in 
the  Barnstable  church  by  Mr.  Lothrop,  but  was  still 
a  member  thereof;  whereupon,  perplexingly,  Barn- 
stable  excommunicated  him  for  "wilfully  breaking  his 
communion  with  us,  and  joining  a  company  in  Yar- 
mouth to  be  their  pastor  contrary  to  the  counsel  and 
advice  of  our  church."  Hull  made  an  "acknowledg- 
ment of  sin,"  was  reinstated,  but  soon  after  went  to 
Dover.  Lothrop  was  now  supreme  at  Barnstable,  but 
Yarmouth  was  not  at  peace,  and  under  Matthews's 
successor,  John  Miller,  another  Cambridge  man,  mat- 
ters came  to  the  pass  of  calling  a  council  of  conciliation 
drawn  from  the  distinguished  clergy  of  the  two  colo- 
nies —  John  Eliot  of  Roxbury  among  them  —  to  pass 
upon  these  ecclesiastical  difficulties. 


THE  TOWNS  67 

In  1644  came  the  settlement  of  Eastham:  indeed, 
there  had  been  some  talk  of  transferring  the  seat  of 
government  thither.  There  had  been  growing  dissatis- 
faction with  Plymouth;  some  said  that  they  "had 
pitched  upon  a  spot  whose  soil  was  poor  and  barren,'* 
and  Nauset  had  long  been  known  to  them  as  a 
granary  whence  they  drew  many  of  their  supplies.  On 
further  reflection  the  place  was  judged  too  cramped 
and  too  out  of  the  way  for  a  capital  town;  but  seven 
families  of  Plymouth  adhering  to  their  wish  to  remove 
there,  land  was  purchased  from  the  Indians,  and  a 
grant  was  made  to  them  of  "  all  the  tract  of  land  lying 
between  sea  and  sea,  from  the  purchasers'  bounds 
at  Namskaket  to  the  herring  brook  at  Billingsgate, 
with  the  said  herring  brook  and  all  the  meadows  on 
both  sides  the  said  brook,  with  the  great  bass-pond 
there,  and  all  the  meadows  and  islands  lying  within 
said  tract."  Among  the  men  coming  to  Eastham  was 
Thomas  Prince,  who  had  come  over  in  the  Fortune, 
and  married  for  his  first  wife  the  daughter  of  Elder 
Brewster.  Prince  took  up  a  farm  of  two  hundred  acres, 
that  ran  from  sea  to  bay,  and  later  when  he  was  elected 
Governor  a  dispensation  was  made  in  his  case,  as  the 
law  held  that  the  Governor  should  be  a  resident  of 
Plymouth.  In  1665,  however,  public  affairs  forced  him 
to  return  to  the  capital,  but  he  still  held  his  Eastham 
farm.  Those  who  knew  Prince  testified  that  "he  was 
a  terror  to  evil-doers,  and  he  encouraged  all  that 
did  well."  Among  "evil-doers"  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve he  included  men  of  other  theological  views  than 
his  own.  But  the  colony  elected  him  three  times  its 


68  OLD  CAPE  COD 

governor,  and  the  Plymouth  Church  set  the  seal  of 
its  approval  on  his  administration.  "He  was  excel- 
lently qualified  for  the  office  of  Governor.  He  had  a 
countenance  full  of  majesty." 

Here,  then,  were  the  original  four  townships,  ex- 
tending from  Buzzard's  Bay  to  the  Province  Lands; 
and  it  is  particularly  fortunate,  no  doubt,  that  these 
settlements  sufficiently  isolated  the  Indian  communi- 
ties of  the  Cape  before  the  great  conflagration  of 
King  Philip's  War,  when  any  concentration  of  fire 
there  would  have  been  a  troublesome  matter  for  the 
colonists  to  handle.  In  1685,  when  the  colony  was 
divided  into  its  three  counties,  four  more  villages  — 
Falmouth,  Harwich,  Truro,  and  Chatham  —  are 
mentioned,  but  not  until  some  years  later  were  they 
set  off  and  incorporated  as  towns.  Later  still  Dennis, 
Brewster,  Orleans,  and  Wellfleet  were  divided  from 
the  mother  townships,  and  in  1727  the  Province 
Lands  at  the  tip  of  the  Cape  were  incorporated  as 
Provincetown,  with  certain  peculiar  rights  therein 
reserved  to  the  Government. 

The  setting-ofF  of  Brewster,  previously  the  North 
Parish  of  Harwich,  in  1803,  led  to  an  amusing  compli- 
cation that  illustrates  the  fine  stiff-necked  obstinacy 
of  these  men  of  "the  bull-dog  breed."  A  battle  royal 
was  waged  between  those  who  did  and  those  who  did 
not  advocate  the  division;  and  finally  the  best  pos- 
sible compromise  to  be  had  was  that  he  who  would 
not  budge  from  his  old  allegiance  should  be  permitted 
his  citizenship  there,  though  his  estate  should  lie  in 
the  new.  Harwich  was  divided;  in  the  process  the 


THE  TOWNS  69 

new  town  was  splashed  with  angry  patches  of  the  old, 
and  more  than  one  conservative  of  the  North  Parish 
found  his  freehold  tied  to  the  mother  town  only  by  a 
ribbon  of  winding  road.  Such  a  one  looked  from  his 
windows  across  jewelled  marshes  to  the  alien  waters 
of  the  bay;  and  on  election  day,  turning  his  back  on 
home,  crossed  the  trig  waist  of  the  Cape,  and  cast  his 
ballot  in  the  town  set  on  the  sandy  inlets  of  the  sea. 

II 

THE  general  grounds  of  contention,  ecclesiastical  and 
political,  —  questions  of  land  tenure  and  fishing  rights, 
the  division  and  government  of  parishes, — remained 
for  the  children  and  grandchildren  of  the  first  settlers. 
It  was  not  that  they  were  a  quarrelsome  people,  but, 
rather,  that  they  had  a  healthy,  vivid,  proprietary 
interest  in  the  civic  and  religious  development  of  their 
common  life.  Every  man  in  a  town  had  his  criticism 
for  each  act  of  the  General  Court,  for  the  manage- 
ment of  his  neighbor,  and  the  religious  slant  of  his  min- 
ister; every  man  expressed  his  personal  view  of  the 
general  comity  in  no  uncertain  words,  with  a  result 
that  sometimes  presented  a  picture  of  confusion  when 
it  was  in  reality  no  more  than  the  process  of  boiling 
down  to  a  good  residuum.  Nor  has  this  early  spirit 
died.  The  strongly  protestant  temper  of  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  has  survived  in  their  descendants;  even  to- 
day if  one  alien  to  the  community  penetrates  beneath 
the  tranquil  surface  of  things  commotion  may  be  dis- 
covered. And  from  time  to  time,  one  may  venture  to 
suppose,  a  spirit  of  joyful  wrangling  has  swung  through 


70  OLD  CAPE  COD 

this  town  or  that  when  the  pugnacious  Briton  has 
cropped  out  in  men  finer  tuned  by  a  more  stimulating 
atmosphere,  who  waged  the  combat  not  always  for 
righteousness'  sake,  but  for  pure  pleasure  of  pitching 
into  the  other  fellow. 

In  the  early  days,  at  any  rate,  there  was  some  scope 
for  the  talent  of  an  arbiter,  and  in  the  Reverend 
Thomas  Walley  who,  after  a  stormy  interval  of  ten 
years,  followed  Mr.  Lothrop  in  the  pastorate  of  Barn- 
stable,  his  people  had  cause  for  gratitude  as  "the 
Lord  was  pleased  to  make  him  a  blessed  peacemaker 
and  improve  him  in  the  work  of  his  house."  In  1669 
Mr.  Walley  carried  his  peacemaking  farther  afield, 
and  preached  before  the  General  Court  a  sermon  en- 
titled "Balm  of  Gilead  to  Heal  Zion's  Wounds." 
Among  other  wounds  were  listed  the  "burning  fever 
or  fires  of  contention  in  towns  and  churches."  Occa- 
sionally outside  powers  took  a  hand  in  these  difficul- 
ties and  the  Boston  clergy  were  called  into  council. 
And  shortly  after  the  incumbency  of  Walley,when  one 
Mr.  Bowles  seems  to  have  officiated  at  Barnstable  for 
a  time,  John  Cotton  wrote  thus  to  Governor  Hinck- 
ley  at  Plymouth:  "This  last  week  came  such  uncom- 
fortable tidings  from  Barnstable  hither,  that  I  knew 
not  how  to  satisfy  myself  without  troubling  you  with 
a  few  lines.  ...  It  does  indeed  appear  strange  with 
men  wiser  than  myself  that  such  discouragements 
should  attend  Mr.  Bowles.  ...  I  need  tell  you,  worthy 
sir,  that  it  is  a  dying  time  with  preachers  .  .  .  and 
there  is  great  likelihood  of  scarcity  of  ministers."  And 
so  on,  in  favor  of  Mr.  Bowles. 


THE  TOWNS  71 

Schism,  pure  and  simple,  sometimes  clove  a  church 
asunder,  and  the  dissenters,  under  the  man  of  their 
choice,  retired  to  form  a  new  parish;  but  natural  di- 
vision came  about  as  a  settlement  spread  to  the  more 
remote  parts  of  a  township.  Such  a  group  might  re- 
main a  subdivision  "within  the  liberties'*  of  the 
mother  town,  but  as  frequently  the  younger  parish 
became  the  nucleus  of  a  growing  settlement  that  might, 
in  turn,  be  duly  incorporated  as  a  town.  Nor  was  the 
process  likely  to  be  consummated  without  some  heart- 
burning. In  1700  the  Reverend  Jonathan  Russell  of 
Barnstable  sent  a  tart  communication  to  the  town 
meeting  that  had  divided  his  parish  and  desired  his 
pleasure  as  to  a  choice  of  churches.  "On  divers  ac- 
counts," wrote  Mr.  Russell,  "it  seems  most  natural 
for  me  to  abide  in  the  premises  where  I  now  am ;  yet 
since  there  is  such  a  number  who  are  so  prejudiced  or 
disaffected  or  so  sett  against  my  being  there"  —  in 
short,  being  a  wise  man,  he  elected  peace  and  chose 
"the  Western  Settlement  if  it  may  by  any  means 
comfortably  be  obtained."  And  Mr.  Russell  took  oc- 
casion to  remind  the  parish  that  he  should  require 
some  provision  for  "firewood  or  an  Equivalent,  hav- 
ing formerly,  on  first  settlement,  been  encouraged 
by  principal  Inhabitants  to  expect  it." 

These  early  clergymen  were  usually  Cambridge  or 
Oxford  men,  the  liberals  of  their  time,  sure  to  stand 
for  the  encouragement  of  learning  among  the  simple 
people  with  whom  they  had  cast  their  lot.  And  whether 
or  not  by  their  influence,  the  sons  of  those  who  had  set 
their  names  to  the  Compact  were  ready  in  1G70  to 


72  OLD  CAPE  COD 

make  some  provision  for  schools.  Looking  about  for 
a  source  of  revenue,  they  perceived  that  "the  Prov- 
idence of  God  hath  made  Cape  Cod  commodious  to 
us  for  fishing  with  seines,"  and  thus  encouraged  the 
General  Court  passed  an  act  that  taxed  the  fishing, 
and,  further,  contained  the  germ  of  our  public  school 
system:  "All  such  profits  as  may  and  shall  accrue  an- 
nually to  the  colony  from  fishing  with  nets  or  seines 
at  Cape  Cod  for  mackerel,  bass,  or  herring  to  be  im- 
proved for  and  towards  a  free  school  in  some  town 
in  this  jurisdiction,  for  the  training  up  of  youth  in 
literature  for  the  good  and  benefit  of  posterity."  And 
the  colony  continued  its  work  by  requiring  that  chil- 
dren should  be  taught  "duely  to  read  the  Scriptures, 
the  knowledge  of  the  capital  laws,  and  the  main  prin- 
ciples of  religion  necessary  for  salvation."  Idleness 
was  punished  as  a  vice;  wilful  ignorance  was  an 
offence  against  "the  safety  and  dignity  of  the 
commonwealth."  Read  into  the  simple  precepts  what 
modern  interpretations  you  will,  and  one  finds  the 
elements  necessary  for  training  the  citizens  of  a 
state  to  be  justly  governed  by  the  consent  of  the 
governed. 

Less  significant  laws  reached  out  to  regulate  the  per- 
sonal life  of  the  people :  a  talebearer  was  liable  to  pen- 
alty; a  liar,  a  drunkard,  a  Sabbath-breaker,  a  profane 
man  might  be  whipped,  branded,  imprisoned,  or  put 
in  the  stocks.  It  cost  Nehemiah  Besse  five  shillings  to 
"drink  tobacco  at  the  meeting-house  in  Sandwich  on 
the  Lord's  day."  For  the  man  taken  in  adultery  there 
was  a  heavy  fine  and  whipping;  the  woman  must 


THE  TOWNS  73 

wear  her  "scarlet  letter,"  and  for  any  evasion  the 
device  should  be  "burned  in  her  face."  And  to  curb 
the  spirit  of  "divers  persons,  unfit  for  marriage,  both 
in  regard  to  their  years  and  also  their  weak  estate," 
it  was  decreed  that  "if  any  man  make  motion  of  mar- 
riage to  any  man's  daughter  or  maid  without  first  ob- 
taining leave  of  her  parents,  guardian  or  master,  he 
shall  be  punished  by  fine  not  exceeding  five  pounds, 
or  by  corporal  punishment,  or  both  at  the  discretion 
of  the  court."  As  a  sequence,  it  is  written  that  a  Barn- 
stable  youth  was  placed  under  bonds  "not  to  attempt 
to  gain  the  affections"  of  Elizabeth,  daughter  of 
Governor  Prince.  In  Eastham  a  man  was  mulcted  a 
pound  for  lying  about  a  whale;  elsewhere  one  paid 
five  pounds  for  pretending  to  have  a  cure  for  scurvy. 
Men  were  had  up  for  profiteering  when  beer  was  sold 
at  two  shillings  a  quart  which  was  worth  one,  and 
boots  and  spurs  which  cost  but  ten  shillings  were  sold 
for  fifteen.  Certain  leading  citizens  were  licensed  to 
"draw  wine":  Thomas  Lumbert  at  Barnstable,  and 
Henry  Cobb ;  Anthony  Thacher  at  Yarmouth ;  at  Sand- 
wich Mr.  Bodfish,  and  "when  he  is  without,  it  shall  be 
lawful  for  William  Newlands  to  sell  wine  to  persons 
for  their  need."  Constructive  work  was  done  in  the  way 
of  building  roads  and  bridges,  for  which  Plymouth  was 
willing  the  towns  should  pay ;  and  a  committee  of  the 
four  Cape  towns  was  appointed  to  draw  therefrom,  for 
such  funds,  "the  oil  of  the  country."  Representative 
government  in  the  growing  colony  was  practically  co- 
incident with  the  incorporation  of  the  Cape  towns, 
which  sent  representatives  to  the  General  Court  and 


74  OLD  CAPE  COD 

had  local  tribunals  to  settle  disputes  not  "exceeding 
twenty  shillings." 

The  people  neither  had  nor  needed  sumptuary  laws: 
gentle  and  simple,  they  dressed  in  homespun.  As  late 
as  1768  a  letter  from  Barnstable  tells  of  the  visit  of 
some  ladies  "dressed  all  in  homespun,  even  to  their 
handkerchiefs  and  gloves,  and  not  so  much  as  a  rib- 
bon on  their  heads.  They  were  entertained  with  Lab- 
rador Tea;  all  innocently  cheerful  and  merry."  Men 
worked  hard,  and  "  lived  "  well :  wild  fowl  and  venison, 
fish  in  their  variety  throughout  the  year  were  to  be 
had  for  the  taking;  and  the  farmers  had  homely  fare 
a-plenty — seasoned  bean  broth  for  dinner,  an  Indian 
pudding,  pork,  beef,  poultry.  It  was  a  life  meagre, 
perhaps,  in  the  picture  of  it,  but  all  deep  concerns 
were  there  —  love,  loyalty,  birth,  death,  a  convic- 
tion of  personal  responsibility  for  what  should  fol- 
low —  and  the  whole  web  of  it  was  shot  through  with 
a  rich,  racy  humor.  They  could  be  neither  driven  nor 
easily  led,  these  people;  and  justice  they  meant  to 
exact  and  cause  to  be  done.  In  the  old  time  their 
fathers  had  turned  misfortune  to  the  profit  of  their 
souls,  and  in  the  new  country  the  natural  energy  of 
the  children  led  them  to  succeed  hi  what  they  might 
undertake. 

The  Independents  were  men  who,  if  they  had  not 
loved  many  luxuries,  had  loved  one  with  a  consuming 
zeal;  and  it  was  perhaps  excusable  that  those  of  the 
second  generation  should  dole  out  with  a  more  sparing 
hand  the  freedom  that  had  been  purchased  at  so  great 
a  price.  Yet  were  they,  again,  for  their  time,  liberals; 


THE  TOWNS  75 

and  it  seems  to  have  been  true  that  the  prospect  of 
universal  salvation  brightened  in  proportion  to  the  dis- 
tance from  Salem  and  Boston.  Plymouth,  at  any  rate, 
even  in  its  "dark  age,"  between  1657  and  1671,  was  a 
bad  second  to  Massachusetts  Bay  when  it  came  to  the 
persecution  of  heretics  or  witchcraft  hysteria,  al- 
though for  the  latter  there  might  be  people  here  and 
there  who  indulged  themselves,  without  fear  of  moles- 
tation, in  playing  with  the  idea  of  magic. 

There  is  a  story  of  Captain  Sylvanus  Rich,  of  Truro, 
who,  shortly  before  getting  under  weigh  in  a  North 
Carolina  port,  bought  from  an  old  woman  a  pail  of 
milk,  and  no  sooner  was  he  at  sea  than  the  ship  was  as 
if  storm-bedevilled.  The  hag  who  had  sold  him  the 
milk,  declared  Captain  Rich,  had  bewitched  him  and 
his  craft.  Every  night,  he  told  his  mates,  she  saddled 
and  bridled  him  and  drove  him  up  hill  and  down  in  the 
Highlands  of  Truro.  Far  out  of  their  course,  they  swept 
on  to  the  Grand  Banks  and  were  like  never  to  make 
port,  when,  by  good  luck,  they  fell  in  with  a  vessel 
commanded  by  the  captain's  son  who  supplied  their 
needs  and  as  effectually  broke  the  spell  of  the  witch. 

James  Hathaway  of  Yarmouth  was  a  stanch  be- 
liever in  "witchcraft  and  other  strange  fantasies"; 
but  Hathaway  was  no  puling  mystic,  and  lived  out 
ninety-five  hale,  hearty,  vigorous  years.  A  kinsman 
of  his  could  give  proof  of  the  family  strength  by  pick- 
ing up  a  rum  barrel  in  his  own  tavern  and  drinking 
from  the  bung;  and  the  family  eccentricity  he  evi- 
denced by  quietly  dropping  out  of  sight  to  save  him- 
self the  trouble  of  defending  a  suit  brought  against 


76  OLD  CAPE  COD 

him  for  embezzlement  by  a  sister,  and  as  quietly, 
after  an  interval  of  twenty-one  years,  returning  to  his 
wife  and  home.  It  had  been  thought  he  was  drowned  in 
the  bay  and  to  no  avail  "guns  were  fired,  sweeps  were 
dragged,  and  oil  poured  on  the  waters."  This  same 
sister  was  a  clever,  well-read,  witty  creature,  who  mar- 
ried well,  and  for  many  years  "associated  with  the 
intelligent,  the  gay  and  the  fashionable."  She  con- 
tributed to  her  popularity  in  the  drawing-rooms  of 
Boston  and  Marblehead  by  recounting  with  a  lively 
tongue  stories  of  witches  she  had  seen  and  known, 
their  tricks,  their  strange  transformations.  To  the  end, 
she  vowed,  she  was  a  firm  believer  in  witchcraft. 

At  Barnstable,  one  Liza  Towerhill,  so  called  because 
her  husband  came  from  that  region  of  London,  was 
reputed  to  be  a  witch,  able  at  will  to  transform  herself 
into  a  cat,  and  having  constant  commerce  with  the 
devil  even  though  to  the  casual  eye  she  were  indus- 
trious, hardworking,  and  pious. 

The  colony  does  not  have  so  clean  a  slate  in  respect 
of  the  persecution  of  Quakers.  As  early  as  165 6  the 
trouble  began  at  Massachusetts  Bay;  but  Plymouth 
lagged  in  the  enactment  of  prohibitive  laws  against 
heretics,  the  execution  of  which,  in  the  end,  were 
more  often  than  not  evaded.  Yet  Plymouth  had 
drifted  far  from  the  teachings  of  old  John  Robinson, 
who  had  charged  his  flock  to  keep  an  open  mind 
"ready  to  receive  whatever  truth  shall  be  made 
known  to  you."  The  First  Comers,  who  had  heard 
and  followed  his  words,  were  succeeded  by  men  less 
well  disciplined  in  mind  and  spirit,  who  were  the 


THE  TOWNS  77 

more  inclined  to  the  strait  doctrine  of  Massachusetts 
Bay.  Then  Rhode  Island,  under  Roger  Williams,  be- 
came the  citadel  of  tolerance;  but  Quakers,  exiled 
from  the  north,  continued  to  stream  into  the  colony, 
to  the  no  small  discomfiture  of  its  officers.  The  visit- 
ors, maddened  by  their  wrongs,  were  not  too  courte- 
ous with  those  of  high  estate,  and  Winslow,  particu- 
larly, was  irritated  by  their  demeanor,  "sometimes 
starting  up  and  smiting  the  table  with  a  stick,  then 
with  his  hand,  then  stamping  with  his  foot,  saying  he 
could  not  bear  it."  "Let  them  have  the  strapado!" 
cried  he.  Norton,  arraigned  by  the  General  Court,  had, 
in  his  turn,  arraigned  the  Governor,  whose  "counte- 
nance full  of  majesty"  in  this  instance,  at  least, 
availed  him  nothing.  "Thomas,  thou  liest,"  cried  the 
Quaker.  "Prince,  thou  art  a  malicious  man." 

But,  for  the  most  part,  the  Quakers  did  no  more 
than  describe,  in  Biblical  terms  as  was  the  custom  of 
the  day,  the  soul-state  of  their  persecutors.  They  had 
been  bred  Puritans,  and  spoke  the  Puritan  language. 
If  Mary  Prince  called  Endicott,  as  he  passed  her  Bos- 
ton prison,  "vile  oppressor  and  tyrant,"  she  spoke 
the  truth  mildly.  "There  is  but  one  god,  and  you  do 
not  worship  that  god  which  we  worship,"  fulminated 
Juggins,  the  magistrate,  in  the  trial  of  Lydia  Wright. 
"I  believe  thou  speakest  truth,"  returned  the  accused 
calmly.  "For  if  you  worshipped  that  God  which  we 
worship,  you  would  not  persecute  His  people."  "Take 
her  away!"  cried  the  court.  "Away  with  him,  away 
with  him,"  had  been  the  only  recourse  left  an  earlier 
tribunal. 


78  OLD  CAPE  COD 

It  was  natural  that  the  seemly  magistrates  of  Ply- 
mouth objected  to  these  new  citizens  who,  when  sum- 
moned "for  not  taking  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the 
government,"  announced  that  they  "held  it  unlaw- 
ful to  take  the  oath";  and  they  flatly  refused  to  pay 
tithes  for  the  support  of  a  clergy  they  despised.  Nor 
were  they  without  sympathizers  in  that  contention. 
"The  law  enacted  about  ministers'  maintenance  was 
a  wicked  and  devilish  law,"  declared  Doctor  Fuller, 
of  Barnstable.  "The  devil  sat  at  the  stern  when  it  was 
enacted."  And  for  his  vehemence,  though  a  true  be- 
liever, he  was  fined  fifty  shillings  by  the  General 
Court,  which  at  the  same  term  had  the  even  mind  to 
elect  him,  for  his  ability,  one  of  the  war  council,  and 
later  to  appoint  him  surgeon-general  of  the  colony's 
troops. 

Quakers  held  parsons  in  light  esteem,  yet  not  one  of 
the  Cape  clergy  could  have  conceived  such  a  plan  as 
Cotton  Mather,  in  1682,  spread  before  Higginson  of 
Salem.  "There  be  now  at  sea  a  skipper,"  wrote  he, 
"which  has  aboard  a  hundred  or  more  of  ye  heretics 
and  malignants  called  Quakers,  with  William  Penn, 
who  is  ye  scamp  at  ye  head  of  them."  Mather  went 
on  to  recount  that  secret  orders  had  gone  out  to  way- 
lay the  ship  "as  near  ye  coast  of  Codde  as  may  be 
and  make  captives  of  ye  Penn  and  his  ungodly  crew, 
so  that  ye  Lord  may  be  glorified,  and  not  mocked  on 
ye  soil  of  this  new  country  with  ye  heathen  worship 
of  these  people."  Then  the  astounding  proposition: 
"Much  spoil  can  be  made  by  selling  ye  whole  lot  to 
Barbadoes,  where  slaves  fetch  good  prices  in  ruinme 


THE  TOWNS  79 

and  sugar.  We  shall  not  only  do  ye  Lord  great  service 
by  punishing  the  Wicked,  but  shall  make  gayne  for  his 
ministers  and  people."  The  precious  scheme  some- 
how miscarried,  the  threatened  engagement  off 
"Codde"  did  not  take  place,  and  Philadelphia  was 
founded. 

When  the  Quakers  Holden  and  Copeland,  driven 
from  Boston  and  whipped  at  Plymouth,  came  to 
Sandwich,  they  found  soil  ready  tilled  for  their  plant- 
ing. The  church  there,  said  to  have  been  "the  most 
bigoted  in  the  county,"  had  been  wrecked  by  the 
bitter  feud  between  liberals  and  "hard  shells,"  and 
its  minister,  a  graduate  of  Emmanuel,  Cambridge, 
*'a  man  of  great  piety  and  meekness,"  had  retired  to 
the  more  congenial  atmosphere  of  Oyster  Bay,  Long 
Island.  But  the  churchmen  of  Sandwich,  as  was  the 
custom  of  their  race,  thirsted  for  religion,  and  in  reac- 
tion against  the  old  doctrines,  the  liberals  there  went 
over  in  a  body  to  the  simple  tenets  of  the  Quakers. 
In  a  year  no  less  than  eighteen  families  professed 
the  new  faith;  but  in  the  meantime  authority  had  not 
slept. 

.  The  marshal  of  Sandwich,  Barnstable,  and  Yar- 
mouth, was  one  George  Barlow,  a  renegade  Anglican 
priest;  nor  had  his  colonial  record  been  a  savory  one. 
At  Boston,  in  1637,  he  had  been  "censured  to  be 
whipped"  for  idleness;  at  Saco,  on  complaint  that,  he 
was  "a  disturber  to  the  peace,"  he  was  forbidden  "any 
more  publickly  to  preach  or  prophesy  " ;  and  later  when 
he  turned  lawyer  at  Plymouth,  it  was  affirmed  in  open 
court  "that  he  is  such  an  one  that  he  is  a  shame  and 


80  OLD  CAPE  COD 

reproach  to  all  his  masters;  and  that  he,  the  said  Bar- 
low, stands  convicted  and  recorded  of  a  lye  att  New- 
bury."  When  Copeland  and  Holden  arrived  at  Sand- 
wich, Barlow  had  been  prompt  to  hale  them  before 
the  selectmen,  to  be  duly  whipped.  But  the  village 
fathers,  "entertaining  no  desire  to  sanction  measures 
so  severe  towards  those  who  differed  from  them  in 
religion,  declined  to  act  in  the  case."  Nothing  daunted, 
Barlow  presented  his  prisoners  at  Barnstable  before 
Thomas  Hinckley,  then  assistant  to  Governor  Prince 
and  later  to  succeed  him  in  office. 

Hinckley  was  the  best-read  lawyer  in  the  colony, 
just  and  honorable  some  held,  others  that  he  was  apt 
at  running  with  the  hare  and  hunting  with  the  hounds. 
He  had  his  enemies,  Otis  admits,  and  adds:  "Barren 
trees  are  not  pelted."  All  are  agreed  that  his  second 
wife  who  was  his  helpmeet  for  more  than  forty  years, 
was  a  beautiful  and  accomplished  woman,  and  pos- 
sessed, moreover,  of  "a  character  excellently  suited 
to  correct  the  occasional  impetuosity  of  his  own." 
Whether  or  not  that  impetuosity  had  been  galled  by 
the  Quakers,  Hinckley  permitted  Holden  and  Cope- 
land  to  be  whipped,  and  in  his  presence.  The  scene, 
described  by  Bishop  with  simple  eloquence,  is  typical 
of  many  a  Quaker  punishment  by  the  magistrates  in 
the  presence  of  a  more  compassionate  people.  "They 
being  tied  to  an  old  post,  had  thirty-three  cruel 
stripes  laid  upon  them  with  a  new  tormenting  whip, 
with  three  cords,  and  knots  at  the  end,  made  by  the 
marshal,  and  brought  with  him.  At  the  sight  of  which 
cruel  and  bloody  execution,  one  of  the  spectators  (for 


THE  TOWNS  81 

there  were  many  who  witnessed  against  it)  cried  out 
in  the  grief  and  anguish  of  her  spirit,  saying:  'How 
long,  Lord,  shall  it  be  ere  thou  avenge  the  blood  of  the 
elect?'  And  afterwards  bewailing  herself,  and  lament- 
ing her  loss,  said:  'Did  I  forsake  father  and  mother, 
and  all  my  dear  relations,  to  come  to  New  England 
for  this?  Did  I  ever  think  New  England  would  come  to 
this?  Who  would  have  thought  it?'  And  this  Thomas 
Hinckley  saw  done,  to  whom  the  marshal  repaired  for 
that  purpose." 

Barlow  was  a  ready  tool  for  the  hand  of  the  reaction- 
aries. Sent  by  the  Court  to  Manomet  to  apprehend 
any  refugees  who  might  come  there  by  sea  —  it  was  a 
law  of  the  colonies  that  any  captain  bringing  heretics 
should  deport  them  at  his  own  expense  —  Barlow 
included  the  more  lucrative  affair  of  raiding  well-to- 
do  farms.  At  East  Sandwich  a  man  was  mulcted 
eighty-six  pounds,  and  in  default  of  payment,  eight- 
een head  of  cattle,  a  mare,  and  two  colts:  in  effect, 
all  his  property  save  his  house,  his  land,  one  cow  and 
a  little  corn,  ''left  out  of  pity  for  his  family."  But  on 
a  second  visit  Barlow,  being  warm  with  liquor,  re- 
gretted his  leniency,  and  took  the  corn,  the  cow,  and 
the  only  remaining  copper  kettle.  "Now,  Priscilla, 
how  will  thee  cook  for  thyself  and  thy  family?" 
jeered  he.  "George,"  she  retorted,  "that  God  who 
hears  the  young  ravens  when  they  cry  will  provide 
for  them.  I  trust  in  that  God  and  verily  believe  that 
the  time  will  come  when  thy  necessities  will  be  greater 
than  mine."  The  event  proved  her  right,  and  in  his 
old  age,  brought  low  with  drink  and  evil  ways,  Barlow 


82  OLD  CAPE  COD 

often  craved  charity  of  Priscilla  Allen,  and  was  never 
refused. 

As  in  the  old  days,  the  "blood  of  martyrs  was  the 
seed  of  the  church,"  and  persecutions,  petty  or  great, 
did  but  serve  to  increase  the  number  of  heretics,  who 
as  time  went  on  not  always  practised  the  pacifism 
they  preached.  Two  women  were  sentenced  to  be 
publicly  whipped  for  "disturbance  of  public  worship, 
and  for  abusing  the  minister";  there  were  fines  for 
"tumultuous  carriage  at  a  meeting  of  Quakers." 
There  were  fines,  also,  for  sheltering  Quakers ;  Nicholas 
Davis,  of  Barnstable,  and  others,  were  banished  on 
pain  of  death.  A  Cape  man,  chancing  to  be  at  Ply- 
mouth when  Nicholas  Upsall,  the  aged  Boston  Puri- 
tan who  had  been  outlawed  for  protesting  against  the 
persecutions,  was  driven  thence,  took  compassion  on 
him  and  brought  him  to  Sandwich  only  to  be  ordered  to 
"take  him  out  of  the  government."  In  no  long  time, 
however,  reaction  set  in;  the  fair-minded  of  the  com- 
munity were  roused  to  protest  at  the  senseless  persecu- 
tion ;  and  men  were  beginning  to  say  that  such  intol- 
erance was  not  in  accord  with  the  spirit  of  their  faith. 
Mr.  Walley,  the  parson,  and  Cudworth,  driven  from 
Scituate  for  his  liberalism,  and  Isaac,  the  third  son  of 
old  John  Robinson  of  Leyden,  spoke  up  for  the  op- 
pressed. Edmund  Freeman  and  others,  of  Sandwich, 
were  fined  for  refusing  aid  to  the  marshal  in  his 
work.  And  later,  when  Quakers  resisted  the  payment 
of  tithes,  it  even  became  the  custom  to  make  up 
the  required  sum  by  levying  an  additional  tax  upon 
churchmen.  Nor  were  the  Quakers,  for  the  most  part, 


'.  THE  TOWNS  83 

strangers,  though  refugees  were  harbored:  for  con- 
verts were  many  among  the  first  settlers  of  the  region, 
and  we  are  told  that  after  the  laws  against  them  were 
relaxed  they  were  "the  most  peaceful,  industrious, 
and  moral  of  all  the  religious  sects."  And  in  1661, 
when  King  Charles  sent  his  injunction  against  the 
persecutions  by  the  hand  of  Samuel  Shattuck,  the 
Quaker  who  had  been  banished  from  Massachusetts 
Bay  on  pain  of  death,  Plymouth  welcomed  the  occa- 
sion to  restore  those  whom  she  had  disfranchised,  and 
returned  to  the  milder  government  that  better  suited 
her  temper. 

ill 

IN  these  years  of  the  early  settlements  the  Indians 
had  given  little  trouble,  and  they  had  been  willing 
enough  to  sell  their  lands  for  considerations  that  were 
valuable  to  them  and  not  ruinous  to  the  whites.  The 
matter  of  the  natives'  claim  to  the  soil  was  reasoned 
out  in  certain  "General  Considerations  for  the  Planta- 
tion in  New  England."  "The  whole  earth  is  the  Lord's 
garden  and  he  hath  given  it  to  the  sons  of  Adam  to  be 
tilled  and  improved,"  ran  the  ingenuous  document. 
"But  what  warrant  have  we  to  take  that  land  which 
is,  and  hath  of  long  time  been  possessed  by  others  of 
the  sons  of  Adam?  That  which  is  common  to  all  is 
proper  to  none,"  is  the  answer  thereto.  "This  savage 
people  ruleth  over  many  lands  without  title  or  prop- 
erty. .  .  .  And  why  may  not  Christians  have  liberty 
to  go  and  dwell  amongst  them  in  their  waste  lands 
and  woods  (leaving  them  such  places  as  they  have 


84  OLD  CAPE  COD 

manured  for  their  corn)  as  lawfully  as  Abraham  did 
among  the  Sodomites?"  Fortified  by  such  doctrine, 
the  settlers  took  up  the  waste  lands,  paid  for  the  corn, 
and  went  on,  when  need  arose,  to  pay  for  the  cleared 
land;  though  later  Andros,  characteristically,  was  to 
declare  that  these  Indian  deeds  were  no  better  than 
"the  scratch  of  a  bear's  paw."  Prices  were  easy  of 
adjustment.  "A  great  brass  kettle  of  seven  spans  in 
wideness  round  about  and  one  broad"  fell  to  one 
Paupunmuck,  of  Barnstable,  who,  however,  reserved 
*'the  right  freely  to  hunt  in  the  lands  sold,  provided 
his  traps  did  no  harm  to  the  cattle."  And  of  Monohoo, 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Walley,  lover  of  justice  and  peace, 
bought  some  threescore  acres  for  "ten  yards  of 
trucking  cloth,  ten  shillings  in  money,  one  iron  kettle, 
two  knives,  and  a  bass-hook."  And  so  were  matters 
arranged  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  concerned:  to  the 
settler  his  farmland;  to  the  Indian  a  brass  pot  and 
bass-hook,  and  often  a  small  plot  was  reserved  to  him 
for  tillage.  But  his  right  to  hunt  or  fish  was  inevitably 
encroached  upon  as  the  settlements  absorbed  more 
and  more  of  the  wild  lands,  and  before  1660  Richard 
Bourne,  of  Sandwich,  perceived  that  some  special  res- 
ervation should  be  made  for  the  fast  dwindling  tribes. 
The  settlers  had  lived  comfortably  enough  with 
their  pagan  neighbors;  and  so  busy  were  they  about 
their  own  affairs,  temporal  and  spiritual,  that  they 
were  not  annoyingly  zealous  in  proselyting.  But  when 
John  Eliot,  apostle  to  the  Indians,  came  down  from 
Boston  to  arbitrate  the  parochial  troubles  of  Sand- 
wich, he  improved  the  occasion  to  forward  the  work 


THE  TOWNS  85 

nearest  his  heart.  An  Indian  of  the  Six  Nations 
shrewdly  observed  to  a  Frenchman  that  "while  we 
had  beaver  and  furs,  the  missionaries  prayed  with  us; 
but  when  our  merchandise  failed  they  thought  they 
could  do  us  no  further  good."  No  such  charge  could 
be  brought  against  Eliot.  "We  may  guess  that  prob- 
ably the  devil  decoyed  these  miserable  salvages 
hither,"  set  forth  the  "Magnalia,"  "in  hopes  that  the 
gospel  should  never  come  here  to  destroy  or  disturb 
his  absolute  empire  over  them.  But  our  Eliot  was  on 
such  ill  terms  with  the  devil  as  to  alarm  him  with 
sounding  the  silver  trumpets  of  heaven  in  his  terri- 
tories and  make  some  noble  and  zealous  attempts  .  .  . 
to  rescue  as  many  as  he  could  from  the  old  usurping 
landlord  of  America."  The  silver  trumpets  sounded  in 
vain  at  Sandwich.  Eliot  was  baffled  by  the  difficulties 
of  the  local  dialect,  by  the  too  pliant  acquiescence  of 
one  sagamore,  and  by  the  ironic  compliance  of  a  huge 
sachem  known  as  Jehu  who  stalked  into  meeting, 
stood  silent  at  the  door,  and,  silent  still,  went  forth 
again  never  to  reappear  there.  Eliot  returned  to  Bos- 
ton, but  it  is  probable  that  his  hope  was  the  inspira- 
tion of  much  good  that  followed. 

Richard  Bourne  took  hold  of  the  matter  by  the 
right  handle:  he  was  "a  man  of  that  discernment  that 
he  conceived  it  was  in  vain  to  propagate  Christian 
knowledge  among  any  people  without  a  territory 
where  they  might  remain  in  peace."  And  he  pro- 
ceeded to  obtain  for  his  wards  a  tract  of  over  ten 
thousand  acres  on  the  "South  Sea,"  where  in  time, 
as  birds  to  the  safety  of  some  southern  island,  flocked 


86  OLD  CAPE  COD  : 

Indians  from  far  and  near;  and  where  still,  though 
of  deteriorated  breed,  may  be  found  a  few  Mashpee 
Indians.  "There  is  no  place  I  ever  saw  so  adapted  to 
an  Indian  town  as  this,"  wrote  the  Reverend  Gideon 
Hawley  in  1757.  "It  is  situated  on  the  Sound,  in  sight 
of  Martha's  Vineyard;  is  cut  into  necks  of  land,  and 
has  two  inlets  by  the  sea;  being  well  watered  by  three 
fresh  rivers  and  three  large  fresh  ponds  lying  in  the 
centre  of  the  plantation.  In  the  two  salt  water  bays 
are  a  great  plenty  of  fish  of  every  description;  and  in 
the  rivers  are  trout,  herring  &c.  In  the  woods,  until 
lately,  has  been  a  great  variety  of  wild  game  consisting 
of  deer  &c.,  and  adjacent  to  the  rivers  and  ponds 
otters,  minks,  and  other  amphibious  animals  whose 
skins  have  been  sought  for  and  made  a  valuable  re- 
mittance to  Europe  ever  since  my  knowledge  of  these 
Indians."  The  description  of  the  land  on  the  thickly 
settled  south  shore  of  to-day  is  clearly  recognizable; 
there  are  trout  in  the  brooks,  and  fish  in  the  sea, 
though  the  Indian  and  the  "amphibious  animals"  be 
rarer  denizens. 

Mr.  Hawley  had  been  deflected  by  the  French  wars 
from  work  among  the  Iroquois,  in  contrast  to  whom 
the  Mashpees  "appeared  abject,"  he  thought.  "A 
half  naked  savage  were  less  disagreeable  than  Indians 
who  had  lost  their  independence."  But  he  might 
better  have  been  thankful  for  that  civilization  which 
his  predecessors  had  made  possible :  for  the  less  trouble 
was  his,  and  his  Indian  parishioners  gave  him,  more- 
over, valid  title  to  two  hundred  acres  of  their  best 
land.  He  lived  among  them  for  fifty  years,  and  is  said 


THE  TOWNS  87 

to  have  "possessed  great  dignity  of  manner  and  au- 
thority of  voice,  which  had  much  influence."  And  his 
Indians,  though  "abject,"  did  him  credit.  In  1760  one 
Reuben  Cognehew  presented  himself  at  the  Georgian 
court  with  a  protest  against  the  colonial  governor, 
and  returned  with  orders  to  treat  the  Indians  better; 
and  in  the  Revolution,  Hawley  said,  more  than  sev- 
enty of  the  Mashpee  women  were  made  widows.  In 
his  old  age  he  wrote  a  letter  full  of  a  humorous  philos- 
ophy that  must  have  stood  him  in  good  stead  through 
his  long  ministry:  "Retired  as  I  am,  and  at  my  time 
of  life  I  need  amusement.  I  read,  but  my  eyes  soon 
become  weary.  I  converse,  but  it  is  with  those  who 
have  my  threadbare  stories  by  rote.  In  such  case  what 
can  I  do?  I  walk,  but  soon  become  weary.  I  cannot 
doze  away  my  time  upon  the  bed  of  sloth,  nor  nod  in 
my  elbow  chair."  He  contemplates  his  fowl  and  ob- 
serving "how  great  an  underling  one  of  the  cocks  was 
made  by  Cockran  and  others  of  the  flock  I  pitied  his 
fate,  and  concluded  to  take  an  active  part  in  his 
favor."  Whereupon  Master  Cockerel  "gathered  cour- 
age with  his  strength,  sung  his  notes,  and  enjoyed  his 
amours  in  consequence  of  my  action.  But  alas !  to  the 
terror  and  amazement  of  the  whole  company  he  in 
his  turn  became  an  intolerant  tyrant.  The  Archon  had 
better  understanding  than  I  and  I  have  determined 
not  to  meddle  in  the  government  of  hens  in  future,  nor 
overturn  establishments.  Cocks  will  be  cocks.  As  the 
sage  Indian  said,  'Tucks  will  be  tucks,  though  old  hen 
he  hatch  'em!'"  As  for  other  animals,  though  "Mil- 
ton, full  of  his  notions,  supposes  that  a  change  in  con- 


88  OLD  CAPE  COD 

sequence  of  Adam's  fall  passed  upon  them,"  Mr.  Haw- 
ley  notes  them  much  of  the  "same  nature  that  they 
had  before  the  Revolution  in  this  country,  and  that 
important  one  now  regenerating  the  Old  World,  as  it 
is  called;  and  under  every  form  of  government  and 
dispensation,  men  will  be  men." 

But  to  return  to  Bourne:  having  obtained  for  the 
Indians  their  land,  in  1665  he  furthered  their  "desire 
of  living  in  some  orderly  way  of  government,  for  the 
better  preventing  and  redressing  of  things  amiss 
among  them  by  just  means,"  and  a  court  was  set  up 
consisting  of  six  Indians,  under  his  guidance,  reserv- 
ing, however,  that  "what  homage  accustomed  legally 
due  to  any  superior  sachem  be  not  infringed."  In  1670 
Bourne  was  ordained  by  Eliot  as  their  pastor.  And  his 
son,  following  the  father's  example,  procured  an  act 
of  the  Court  guarding  the  tenure  of  their  land,  which 
might  not  be  "bought  by  or  sold  to  any  white  person 
or  persons  without  the  consent  of  all  the  Indians." 
And  in  the  ministry  Bourne  was  succeeded  by  men, 
sometimes  Indians,  sometimes  whites,  who  had  due 
regard  for  their  charges,  "the  Praying  Indians,"  they 
were  called. 

At  Eastham,  the  Reverend  Samuel  Treat  was  at 
pains  to  learn  the  language  of  his  Indian  neighbors, 
and  translated  the  Confession  of  Faith  into  the  Nau- 
set  dialect.  Mr.  Treat  was  an  old-school  Calvinist, 
whose  chief  means  to  grace  was  the  threat  of  eternal 
damnation.  "God  himself  shall  be  the  principal  agent 
in  thy  misery,"  he  could  thunder  out  in  the  little 
meeting-house  with  a  voice  that  carried  far  beyond  its 


THE  TOWNS  89 

walls.  "His  is  that  consuming  fire;  his  breath  is  the 
bellows  which  blows  up  the  flame  of  hell  forever;  he 
is  the  damning  fire  —  the  everlasting  burning;  and  if 
he  punish  thee,  if  he  meet  thee  in  his  fury,  he  will  not 
meet  thee  as  a  man,  he  will  give  thee  an  omnipotent 
blow."  Whether  Mr.  Treat  dealt  out  such  red-hot 
doctrine  to  his  Indians,  we  cannot  know;  perhaps 
they  were  warmed  by  the  fervor  rather  than  alarmed 
by  the  tenor  of  his  words.  At  any  rate,  they  loved  him; 
and  when  he  died  during  the  Great  Snow  of  1716,  they 
tunnelled  a  way  to  the  grave  and  bore  him  to  his  rest. 
There  were  old  ordinances  forbidding  the  whites  to 
give  or  sell  firearms,  ammunition,  canoes,  or  horses  to 
Indians.  There  was  also  a  provision  that  "whoever 
shall  shoot  off  a  gun  on  any  unnecessary  occasion,  or 
at  any  game  except  at  an  Indian,  or  a  wolf,  shall  for- 
feit five  shillings  for  every  shot."  Evidently  all  was 
not  love  and  trust  between  the  races.  The  Indians 
steadily  dwindled  in  numbers  until  at  Eastham  in 
1763  there  were  but  five  Indians,  and  at  Truroin  1792 
only  one  family,  although  an  old  lady  then  remem- 
bered that  there  used  to  be  as  many  Indian  children 
at  school  as  whites,  and  "sometimes  the  little  Injuns 
tried  to  crow  over  'em."  Early  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury the  pure-breed  Mashpees  were  extinct;  but  in 
1830  William  Apes,  an  "Indian"  preacher,  succeeded 
in  enlarging  their  religious  liberties;  in  1842  their  com- 
mon lands  were  apportioned  in  sixty-acre  lots;  in  1870 
Mashpee  became  a  town  with  full  self-government, 
though  still  with  some  special  grants  of  state  aid  for 
schools  and  highways. 


90  OLD  CAPE  COD 

"Rum"  here,  as  elsewhere,  played  its  important 
part  in  undermining  the  stamina  of  the  natives;  and 
its  evil,  as  in  any  age,  exhorters  to  virtue  were  prone 
only  too  vividly  to  depict.  "Mr.  Stone  one  very  good 
preacher,"  commented  a  Mashpee,  "but  he  preach 
too  much  about  rum.  When  he  no  preach  about  rum, 
Injun  think  nothing  'bout  it;  but  when  he  tells  how 
Injun  love  rum,  and  how  much  they  drunk,  then  I 
think  how  good  rum  is  and  think  no  more  'bout  ser- 
mon, my  mouth  waters  so  much  for  rum."  And  when 
asked  whether  he  preferred  Mr.  Stone  or  "Blind  Joe," 
a  Baptist,  he  said:  "Mr.  Stone  he  make  best  sermons, 
but  Blind  Joe  he  make  best  Christians."  And  as  in 
other  and  later  times  the  whites  made  their  profit  in 
selling  drink  to  the  Indians.  As  early  as  1685  Gov- 
ernor Hinckley  writes  of  the  Indians:  "They  have 
their  courts  and  judges;  but  a  great  obstruction  to 
bringing  them  to  more  civility  and  Christianity  is  the 
great  appetite  of  the  young  generation  for  strong 
liquors,  and  the  covetous  ill-humor  of  sundry  of  our 
English  in  furnishing  them  therewith  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  court  orders  and  means  used  to  prohibit 
the  same." 

The  Indians  were  inveterate  gamblers,  and  al- 
though they  could  sit  solemnly  enough  through  a 
church  service,  they  were  as  likely  to  go  forth  to  game 
away  all  they  had  even  to  their  precious  knives  and 
kettles.  And  the  whites,  as  in  the  early  days  before 
they  had  made  good  Christians  of  the  "salvages," 
were  ready  to  suspect  them  of  petty  thievery:  for 
which,  however,  the  savages  were  not  without  ex- 


THE  TOWNS  91 

amples  to  imitate.  An  Indian,  reproved  for  taking  a 
knife  from  an  Englishman's  house,  retorted:  "Bar- 
low steals  from  the  Quakers.  Why  can't  I  steal?" 
At  Yarmouth,  late  in  the  seventeen  hundreds,  near 
the  mouth  of  Bass  River,  was  a  little  cluster  of  wig- 
wams; and  whether  for  reason  or  not,  an  irate  deacon, 
suspecting  some  of  the  community  of  robbing  his 
henroost,  visited  them  in  the  early  morning,  only  to 
be  abashed  by  finding  them  at  prayer.  He  stole  away 
without  further  inquiry  about  his  hens.  And  the  Indian 
deacon,  one  Naughaught,  nettled,  perhaps,  by  such 
suspicions,  upon  finding  a  purse  of  money  one  day, 
would  not  open  it  save  in  the  presence  of  witnesses  at 
the  tavern.  "If  I  were  to  do  so,"  he  told  them,  "all  the 
trees  of  the  forest  would  see  and  testify  against  me." 
And  this  same  Naughaught  had  a  marvellous  adven- 
ture that  must  have  made  a  fine  story  for  drinkers  at 
the  tavern.  Walking  one  day  far  from  the  habitations 
of  man,  went  the  tale,  he  was  set  upon  by  a  great 
number  of  black  snakes  —  a  common  and  harmless 
reptile  in  the  Cape  Cod  meadows  to-day,  but  going 
about  their  business  there  in  smaller  companies. 
Unarmed,  Naughaught  saw  that  his  defence  lay  only 
in  a  steadfast  spirit.  He  quailed  not  when  the  snakes 
writhed  up  his  body,  even  to  the  neck;  and  when  one, 
bolder  than  the  rest,  faced  him  eye  to  eye,  he  opened 
his  mouth  and  straight  snapped  off  its  head.  Where- 
upon its  companions  withdrew  and  left  Naughaught 
master  of  the  field. 

It  is  matter  of  record  that  the  Cape  Indians  were 
more  friendly  to  the  whites,  more  humane,  and  more 


92  OLD  CAPE  COD 

easily  converted  to  Christianity  than  their  brothers 
of  the  mainland,  and  in  like  measure  were  the  more 
despised  by  them.  "The  Praying  Indians  were  sub- 
jects," said  Philip,  son  of  the  great  Massasoit,  when 
there  was  question  of  taking  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the 
English  sovereign.  But  not  he  or  his  fellows;  his  kins- 
men had  ever  been  friendly  with  the  Plymouth  Gov- 
ernment: his  father  and  brother  had  made  engage- 
ment to  that  end,  but  it  was  only  for  amity,  not 
subjection.  And  by  1662  Philip  was  ready  to  defy 
Plymouth.  "Your  government  is  only  a  subject  of 
King  Charles  II  of  England,"  he  told  them.  "I  shall 
treat  only  with  the  king,  my  brother.  When  Charles 
of  England  comes,  I  am  ready." 

As  early  as  1642  rumored  unrest  among  the  Indians 
and  a  well-grounded  fear  that  the  mother  country 
might  draw  the  Plantations  into  her  quarrels  with 
the  Dutch  or  French,  had  knit  the  colonies  closer  to- 
gether, and  in  1643  a  protective  league  that  was  the 
prototype  of  the  later  confederacy  of  states  was 
formed  among  the  New  England  colonies.  Two  com- 
missioners from  each  colony,  six  of  the  eight  to  make 
a  majority  rule,  were  to  meet  annually  in  September; 
a  common  war  chest  and  a  colonial  militia  were  pro- 
vided for;  but  none  were  to  fight  unless  compelled  to 
do  so,  or  only  upon  the  consent  of  all.  The  Plymouth 
quota,  under  command  of  Miles  Standish,  was  to  be 
thirty  men,  of  whom  the  Cape  should  furnish  eight. 

In  1675  trouble  with  the  Indians  came  to  a  head  in 
King  Philip's  War,  in  which  the  Cape,  although  criti- 
cised by  Plymouth,  bore  her  due  share.  It  was  charged 


THE  TOWNS  93 

of  Sandwich  that  "many  of  the  soldiers  who  were 
pressed  came  not  forth."  As  a  fact,  Sandwich,  the 
frontier  town  of  the  Cape,  was  well  occupied  in  seeing 
to  her  own  defences  that  must  separate  the  Praying 
Indians  from  the  hostile  natives  of  the  mainland;  nor 
was  the  town  of  Richard  Bourne,  with  its  large 
Quaker  element,  likely  to  be  as  eager  to  fight  the 
Indians  as  Plymouth  or  Massachusetts.  The  Cape 
Indians  were  restive  enough  to  cause  apprehension, 
and  the  towns  were  constantly  on  watch  for  attack 
without  and  treachery  within.  Restriction  upon  the 
Indians  was  tightened,  account  of  them  was  kept  the 
easier  by  providing  that  "every  tenth  Indian  should 
have  particular  oversight  over  his  nine  men  and 
present  their  faults  to  the  authorities."  The  five  or 
six  hundred  men  capable  of  bearing  arms  could  have 
made  trouble  enough  for  the  whites  if  they  had  had 
the  will;  but  whether  for  gratitude  or  lack  of  spirit, 
they  were  loyal  —  some  even  joined  the  troops.  Mr. 
Walley,  who  was  ever  friendly  to  the  Indians  and 
ready  to  give  them  their  due,  observed  that  so  well 
did  they  fight  that  "throughout  the  land  where  In- 
dians hath  been  employed  there  hath  been  the  greatest 
success,"  and  pondered  how  affairs  might  go  without 
their  aid.  "I  am  greatly  afflicted  to  see  the  danger  we 
are  in,"  he  wrote  Mr.  Cotton,  of  Plymouth.  "Some 
fear  we  have  paid  dearly  for  former  acts  of  severity." 
Nor  were  there  lacking  heavenly  portents  of  disaster: 
in  1664  a  great  comet  had  appeared,  and  three  years 
later,  "about  an  hour  within  the  night,"  another 
"like  a  spear,"  and  again  another  in  1680.  "When 


94  OLD  CAPE  COD 

blazing  stars  have  been  seen,"  said  Increase  Mather, 
"great  mutations  and  miseries  have  come  upon 
mortals." 

•  The  price  which  Mr.  Walley  apprehended  was 
sufficiently  heavy,  yet  the  outcome  was  as  might  have 
been  expected.  In  August,  1676,  when  Philip  of  the 
Wampanoags  was  killed,  "Thus  fell  a  mighty  war- 
rior," and  then  ended  his  war.  In  the  sparsely  settled 
colonies  six  hundred  men  were  slain,  twelve  or  thir- 
teen towns  destroyed,  and  a  huge  debt  contracted. 
Plymouth  shouldered  a  burden  that  exceeded  the 
entire  personal  estate  of  the  citizens,  which  she  met  by 
vigorous  taxation  and  partly,  it  may  be  said,  by  the 
sale  of  lands  that  had  belonged  to  the  exterminated 
Indians.  The  aftermath  of  war  meant  peculiar  suffer- 
ing for  the  devastated  districts;  the  Cape,  fortunate 
in  its  remoteness,  offered  asylum,  which  was,  how- 
ever, gratefully  declined,  to  Rehoboth,  Taunton,  and 
Bridgewater.  It  is  interesting  that  "Divers  Christians 
in  Ireland  "  sent  over  a  relief  fund  of  something  over 
a  hundred  pounds.  It  is  also  interesting  that  no  en- 
couragement or  aid  had  been  received,  or  asked  or 
expected,  from  the  mother  country;  and  another  use- 
ful lesson  in  self-dependence  had  been  learned  by  the 
colonies. 

The  Cape  forces  had  been  ably  led  by  John  Gor- 
ham,  of  Barnstable.  A  letter  to  the  council,  written 
in  October,  1675,  shows  something  of  his  temper  as  a 
man:  "Our  soldiers  being  much  worn,  having  been 
in  the  field  this  fourteen  weeks  and  little  hope  of  find- 
ing the  enemy,  we  are  this  day  returning  toward  our 


THE  TOWNS  95 

General,  but  as  for  my  own  part,  I  shall  be  ready  to 
serve  God  and  the  country  in  this  just  war  so  long  as 
I  have  life  and  health.  Not  else  to  trouble  you,  I  rest 
yours  to  serve  in  what  I  am  able,  John  Gorrun." 
Three  days  later  the  Court  appointed  him  captain  of 
the  second  company  of  Plymouth,  of  which  Jonathan 
Sparrow,  of  Eastham,  was  lieutenant. 

The  commander-in-chief  was  James  Cudworth,  of 
Scituate,  who  had  been  a  member  of  John  Lothrop's 
flock,  and  had  lived  for  a  time  in  Barnstable  and 
owned  salt-works  there.  He  had  been  disfranchised 
for  his  sympathy  with  the  Quakers,  and  bound  over  in 
five  hundred  pounds  to  appear  at  court  "in  reference 
unto  a  seditious  letter  sent  to  England,  the  coppy 
whereof  is  come  over  in  print,"  which,  however,  was 
no  more  than  a  full  setting-out  of  the  unlawful  per- 
secutions. But  he  was  too  valuable  a  man  to  lose: 
Scituate  was  nearly  unanimous  in  his  favor,  as  were 
Barnstable  and  Sandwich.  In  1666  the  Scituate  mili- 
tia, against  the  will  of  the  Court,  chose  him  captain; 
in  1673  he  was  unanimously  made  captain  of  the  Ply- 
mouth forces  in  a  contemplated  expedition  against  the 
Dutch.  His  declination  of  the  honor,  which  he  was 
later  to  undertake  in  the  Indian  war,  was  not,  he  de- 
clared, "out  of  any  discontent  in  my  spirit  arising 
from  any  former  difference.  I  am  as  freely  willing  to 
serve  my  King  and  Country  as  any  man,  but  I  do  not 
understand  that  a  man  is  called  to  serve  his  country 
with  the  inevitable  ruin  and  devastation  of  his  own 
family."  Cudworth  pleaded  the  care  of  his  farm  and 
his  wife's  illness.  "She  cannot  lie  for  want  of  breath," 


96  OLD  CAPE  COD 

wrote  he.  "And  when  she  is  up  she  cannot  light  a  pipe 
of  tobacco,  but  it  must  be  lighted  for  her.  And  she  has 
never  a  maid.  And  for  tending  and  looking  after  my 
creatures;  the  fetching  home  of  my  hay,  that  is  yet  at 
the  place  where  it  grew;  getting  of  wood,  going  to 
mill;  and  for  the  performance  of  all  other  family 
occasions  I  have  now  but  a  small  Indian  boy,  about 
thirteen  years  of  age,  to  help  me."  "So  little  of  state 
was  there,"  is  Palfrey's  comment  on  the  artless  nar- 
rative, "in  the  household  economy  of  the  commander- 
in-chief  in  a  foreign  war."  And  again:  "It  is  amusing 
and  touching  at  once  to  see  how  hard,  in  those  days,  it 
was  to  induce  men  to  be  willing  to  be  great." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  FRENCH  WARS 

I 

THE  so-called  French  and  Indian  Wars,  a  series  of 
conflicts  reflecting  the  entanglements  of  England 
overseas,  lasted  well  on  to  seventy-five  years  after  the 
accession  of  William  and  Mary  in  1689.  Political  his- 
tory in  Massachusetts  was  making  in  the  meantime: 
Andros  had  reigned  and  been  deposed;  the  Earl  of 
Bellamont,  a  good  friend  of  King  William  and  a  just 
man  popular  with  the  colonists,  had  served  a  brief 
term,  wherein  he  had  captured  and  shipped  to  Eng- 
land for  trial  the  notorious  Captain  Kidd;  and  Sir 
William  Phips,  a  native  of  New  England  acceptable 
to  the  people,  was  the  first  Governor  under  the 
charter  of  William  and  Mary  that,  in  1692,  formally 
united  Plymouth  and  Massachusetts  Bay.  Plymouth 
had  fought  well  for  her  independence  as  against 
absorption  either  by  New  York  or  Massachusetts 
Bay;  but  when  the  skill  of  Increase  Mather  won  her  as 
prize,  Governor  Hinckley  had  the  good  sense  to  thank 
him  for  his  work,  as  Massachusetts  was  preferable  to 
New  York.  Maine,  Massachusetts,  and  Plymouth, 
then,  were  united  under  the  rule  of  Governor,  Deputy 
Governor,  and  Secretary  appointed  by  the  king,  and 
twenty-eight  Councillors  chosen  by  the  people.  On 
Cape  Cod,  at  the  time  of  the  union,  there  were  about 


98  OLD  CAPE  COD 

four  thousand  whites  grouped  in  six  towns  —  Sand- 
wich, Barnstable,  Yarmouth,  Eastham,  Falmouth, 
and  Mannomoit  —  which  sent  nine  representatives 
to  the  first  Provincial  Assembly. 

It  is  interesting  that  at  about  this  time  began  the 
advent  of  men  of  Irish  blood,  who,  whether  Roman 
Catholic  or  Protestant,  have  been  among  the  most 
thrifty  and  prosperous  of  the  Cape  people.  Early  in 
the  reign  of  William  and  Mary  laws  were  put  afoot  to 
turn  Ireland  from  manufacturing  to  agriculture. 
Swift  gibed  at  the  policy  of  "cultivating  cattle  and 
banishing  men";  Lord  Fitz William  protested  that  a 
hundred  thousand  operatives  were  forced  to  leave 
the  country.  Many,  the  vanguard  of  a  mighty  host, 
came  to  the  American  colonies.  Few  of  these  early 
immigrants,  probably,  were  of  pure  Celtic  blood :  they 
were  the  Scotch-Irish  of  the  north,  the  Anglo-Irish  and 
the  French  of  the  south,  artisans  rather  than  farmers, 
who  were  to  play  an  enormous  part  in  the  develop- 
ment of  our  country.  Among  the  early  settlers  of  the 
Cape  were  many  Irishmen:  Higgins,  Kelley,  Belford, 
Delap,  Estabrook,  Wood,  and  the  Reverend  Samuel 
Osborn  who  succeeded  Mr.  Treat  at  Eastham.  Mr. 
Osborn  taught  his  parishioners  the  use  of  peat  as  a 
fuel  and  some  improvements  in  farming;  but,  alas,  in 
that  orthodox  community,  he  was  suspected  of  lib- 
eralism. Thoreau  says:  "Ten  ministers  with  their 
churches  sat  on  him  and  spoiled  his  usefulness"  — 
but  only  for  Eastham.  In  Boston  he  became  a  suc- 
cessful schoolmaster,  and  lived  there  to  be  near  a 
hundred  years  of  age. 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  99 

Life  at  the  Cape  flowed  on  with  simple  annals  to 
mark  its  course.  In  1687  a  mill  for  grinding  corn  was 
set  up  at  Barnstable,  to  the  wonder  of  the  Indians 
who  took  it  for  a  monster  with  arms  —  the  precursor 
of  the  winged  mills  that  once  dotted  the  Cape  from 
shoulder  to  tip  and  played  no  small  part  in  the  charm 
of  its  picture.  At  Barnstable,  too,  was  the  first  mill  to 
"full  and  draw  the  town's  cloth  on  reasonable  terms," 
to  the  satisfaction,  one  may  suppose,  of  busy  workers 
at  spinning-wheel  and  loom.  And  the  erection  of  a 
mill  at  Yarmouth  was  even  celebrated  in  verse: 

"The  Baxter  boys  they  built  a  mill, 
Sometimes  it  went,  sometimes  stood  still; 
And  when  it  went,  it  made  no  noise, 
Because  't  was  built  by  Baxter's  boys." 

In  1694  Harwich  was  set  off  from  Eastham,  and  it  is 
said  that  Patrick  Butler  walked  all  the  way  to  Boston 
to  secure  the  act  of  incorporation.  In  1709  Truro,  also, 
with  the  usual  stipulation  that  it  "procure  and  settle 
a  learned  and  godly  minister,"  was  set  off  from 
Eastham,  which,  indeed,  as  Pamet,  it  had  long  ante- 
dated in  settlement.  In  1705  there  had  been  an  abortive 
attempt  to  incorporate  this  district  as  Dangerfield, 
and  in  1718  there  was  a  motion  to  set  off  the  future 
Wellfleet  as  Poole;  but  nothing  further  was  heard  of 
these  names.  There  had  always  been  wrangling  over 
the  settlement  at  Mannomoit,  at  the  elbow  of  the 
Cape:  first  attached  to  Yarmouth,  then  to  Eastham, 
in  1688  it  was  made  an  independent  "  constablerick," 
and  in  1712  was  incorporated  as  Chatham.  In  1714 
the  Province  Lands  became  the  Precinct  of  Cape  Cod 


100  OLD  CAPE  COD 

under  the  "constablerick"  of  Truro,  and  there  was  a 
tax  of  fourpence  for  the  upkeep  of  a  minister  there. 
But  evidently  Truro  had  trouble  with  her  ward  — 
the  population  was  a  drifting  one,  for  the  most  part 
irresponsible  fishermen  and  adventurers  —  and  in 
1715  she  petitioned  the  General  Court  that  the  new 
Precinct  be  "declared  either  a  part  of  Truro  or  not  a 
part  of  Truro,  that  the  town  may  know  how  to  act 
in  regard  to  some  persons."  From  the  beginning,  with 
a  care  to  the  preservation  of  crops,  householders  were 
required  to  kill  blackbirds  and  crows,  and  there  was  a 
large  bounty  on  wolves.  In  1717  there  was  even  talk 
of  building  "a  high  fence  of  palisades  or  boards" 
across  the  Cape  between  Sandwich  and  Wareham 
"to  keep  wolves  from  coming  into  the  county."  But 
there  were  two  points  of  view  for  that  question,  and 
the  scheme,  opposed  by  some  within  on  the  score  of 
expense  and  by  others  without  who  did  not  "wish  all 
the  wolves  to  be  shut  out  of  the  county  upon  their 
own  limits,"  was  soon  abandoned.  In  1721  there  was  a 
fearful  epidemic  of  smallpox  throughout  the  State; 
and  Cotton  Mather,  who  favored  inoculation,  was 
held  by  the  pious  to  prefer  "the  machinations  of  men 
to  the  all- wise  providence  of  God." 

As  the  Cape  became  more  closely  settled,  men  of 
the  pioneer  spirit  were  again  feeling  themselves 
cramped  for  room;  and  in  1727  certain  lands  which 
the  Government  had  been  ready  to  give  as  bounty 
to  veterans  of  King  Philip's  War,  were,  at  length, 
granted  to  their  heirs  —  a  township  ten  miles  square 
to  each  one  hundred  and  twenty  persons  where  claims 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  101 

thereto  were  established  within  four  months  of  the 
act.  Seven  townships  were  taken  up.  Number  Seven, 
in  Maine,  assigned  to  the  heirs  of  men  who  had 
served  under  Captain  John  Gorham,  was  named  after 
him,  and  his  grandson,  Shubael,  ruined  himself  in 
promoting  the  enterprise.  Amos  Otis  writes  that  "he 
lost  his  property  in  his  endeavors  to  secure  to  the 
officers  and  soldiers  in  King  Philip's  War,  or  their 
legal  representatives,  their  just  dues.  In  his  strenuous 
efforts  to  do  justice  to  others,  he  was  unjust  to  himself, 
and  involved  himself,  for  the  benefit  of  others,  in  lia- 
bilities which  he  was  unable  to  meet."  Of  John  Phin- 
ney,  one  of  these  pioneers  of  Gorham,  a  son  of  one  of 
the  conquerors  of  the  Narragansetts,  it  is  recorded 
that  "he  disembarked  from  his  canoe  on  the  Pre- 
sumpscot  River,  with  his  axe  and  a  small  stock  of  sim- 
ple provisions,  attended  by  a  son  of  fourteen  years  of 
age,  with  a  design  to  make  a  home  for  himself  and 
family  in  the  then  wilderness.  Having  selected  a  spot 
for  his  future  dwelling,  that  son  Edmund,  afterwards 
distinguished  as  a  colonel  in  the  war  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, felled  the  first  tree  for  a  settlement."  Nearly 
every  town  on  the  Cape  sent  men  to  the  new  country, 
and  here  the  old  Cape  Cod  names  were  perpetuated: 
Bacon,  Bangs,  Bourne,  Freeman,  Knowles,  Paine, 
Sturgis. 

In  1727  the  Precinct  of  Cape  Cod  was  incorporated 
as  Provincetown,  with  important  reservation  of  rights 
to  the  Government  in  exchange  for  which  the  inhabit- 
ants were  held  exempt  from  all  but  local  taxes  and 
from  military  duty.  The  Province  held  title  to  the 


102  OLD  CAPE  COD 

land;  and  it  was  not  until  1893,  when  the  State  sur- 
rendered its  holdings  in  the  village  that  a  Province- 
town  man  could  be  said  to  own  his  home,  or  give 
more  than  a  quitclaim  deed  for  its  transfer.  In  1740 
Provincetown  seems  to  have  added  some  grazing  to 
her  activities  by  sea,  and  is  presented  for  so  care- 
lessly herding  cattle  that  the  "beaches  were  much 
broken  and  damnified,  occasioning  the  moving  of  the 
sands  into  the  harbor  to  the  great  damage  thereof." 
The  French  wars  were  working  havoc  in  the  fortunes 
of  her  fishermen  and  the  population  melting  away 
until,  in  1755,  there  were  not  more  than  three  houses 
in  the  village  and  then  increasing  until  the  Revolu- 
tion, when  there  were  twenty.  In  1763  that  part  of 
Eastham  known  as  Billingsgate  —  Poole  it  never 
was  to  be  —  became  Wellfleet.  And  a  year  earlier  the 
Mashpee  Indians,  feeling  the  push  for  fuller  political 
rights,  petitioned  for  and  obtained  their  Mashpee 
District,  eight  miles  by  five  or  six,  comprising  two 
hundred  and  thirty-seven  souls  and  "sixty-three 
wigwams."  To  the  Yarmouth  Indians  had  been 
granted  the  greater  part  of  South,  Yarmouth  on  Bass 
River.  Mr.  Freeman  records  that  1749  was  known  as 
the  year  of  the  Great  Drought  which  destroyed  the 
early  crops  of  hay  and  feed;  but  in  July  the  weather 
broke,  the  bare  earth  miraculously  put  forth  its 
green,  and  there  were  as  many  thanksgivings  as  there 
had  been  intercessions  for  Divine  aid. 

Martha's  Vineyard  had  been  fonnd  particularly 
adapted  to  sheep-raising,  and  wool  was  ferried  over 
to  Falrnouth  to  keep  the  Cape  women  busy  at  their 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  .  103 

looms.  In  1738  a  Barnstable  man  founded  Marston's 
Mills,  and  a  letter  from  Newport  in  a  later  year 
speaks  of  the  woollen  factory  at  Barnstable  which 
receives  from  the  spinners  it  employs  sometimes  five 
hundred  skeins  a  day  and  clears  in  a  year  three  thou- 
sand dollars,  "which  is  the  most  profitable  of  any  busi- 
ness now  carried  on  in  America  according  to  the  stock 
improved  in  it";  broadcloth  "selling  for  three  dollars 
a  yard  in  London  may  be  had  here  for  a  dollar  and  a 
half."  This  public  industry  supplemented  the  one  that 
a  family  conducted  on  its  own  account :  for  nearly  every 
farm  had  its  sheep,  and  homespun  was  the  wear.  The 
moors  of  Truro  were  dotted  with  sheep,  and  very 
likely  some  of  its  surplus  wool  was  sent  to  the  Barn- 
stable  mills. 

That  the  Cape  people,  in  parsonage  or  farm,  fol- 
lowed the  custom  of  the  day  and  kept  slaves  is  evi- 
denced, among  other  ways,  by  many  wills.  Mr.  Bacon, 
of  Barnstable,  for  instance,  directs  that  in  case  his 
negro  Dinah  be  sold,  "all  she  is  sold  for  be  improved 
by  my  executors  in  buying  Bibles,"  which  are  to  be 
distributed  among  his  grandchildren.  Mr.  Walley  had 
his  slaves;  the  Reverend  Mr.  Avery,  of  Truro,  whose 
farm  and  forge  were  near  Highland  Light,  was  able 
to  bequeath  a  considerable  estate  to  his  children;  and 
among  the  assets  were  his  negro  "girl  named  Phillis," 
his  Indian  girl  named  Sarah,  and  the  negroes  Jack  and 
Hope  who  were  never  to  be  sold  out  of  the  family. 
Old  Totoo,  slave  to  Mrs.  Gorham,  of  Barnstable, 
survived  her  eight  years  and,  dying,  begged  that  he 
might  be  buried  at  his  mistress's  feet.  In  1678  two 


104  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Indians  of  Sandwich,  convicted  of  stealing  twenty- 
five  pounds,  were  sentenced  to  be  sold,  for  the  profit 
of  their  victims,  somewhere  in  New  England  as 
"perpetual  slaves." 

And  that  apprenticeship  in  the  early  days  was 
sometimes  practical  slavery  is  shown  by  the  case  of 
Jonathan  Hatch,  a  Yarmouth  lad,  bound  out  at  the  age 
of  fourteen  to  a  Salem  man,  from  whose  harsh  service 
he  fled  only  to  be  caught  in  Boston,  sentenced  to  be 
severely  whipped,  and  returned  as  a  slave  to  his  mas- 
ter. Again  escaping,  he  reached  Yarmouth  where  he 
was  arrested,  condemned  to  be  whipped,  and  passed 
from  constable  to  constable  back  to  Salem.  Appeal 
was  made  to  the  Plymouth  Court  which  made  an  ex- 
cuse of  "doubting  its  jurisdiction"  to  evade  the  is- 
sue, and  the  boy  was  "appointed  to  dwell  with  Mr. 
Stephen  Hopkins"  at  Yarmouth.  In  due  time  he  mar- 
ried and  went  to  live  at  South  Sea,  near  the  sachem 
of  the  Mashpees,  with  whom  he  became  on  very 
good  terms.  In  1652  he  was  had  up  for  furnishing  an 
Indian  with  gun  and  ammunition,  and  later  be- 
friended the  Indian  Repent  who  was  charged  with 
threatening  to  shoot  Governor  Prince.  From  the 
South  Sea,  with  Isaac  Robinson,  he  became  a  squatter 
at  Falmouth,  but  soon  was  duly  granted  a  plot  of 
eighty  acres.  He  was  to  act,  moreover,  as  the  land 
agent  of  the  proprietors,  and  ended  the  career  that  had 
begun  as  a  runaway  slave  by  becoming  a  respected 
measurer  of  metes  and  bounds. 

For  these  early  farmers  slavery  seems  to  have  been 
the  solution  of  their  problem  of  trying  to  tie  a  la- 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  105 

borer  to  his  job.  While  land  was  available  in  practi- 
cally unlimited  amount  and  money  was  scarce,  any 
man  might  find  himself  a  proprietor,  a  point  illus- 
trated by  an  amusing  story  of  Winthrop's.  A  certain 
man,  lacking  cash,  paid  off  his  farmhand  by  giving 
him  a  pair  of  oxen.  The  laborer  was  willing  to  con- 
tinue such  service.  "But  how  shall  I  pay  you?"  asked 
the  man.  "With  more  oxen."  "And  when  the  oxen 
are  gone?"  "Then  you  can  work  for  me  and  earn 
them  back  again."  But  in  the  North,  as  time  went  on, 
and  land  was  taken  up  in  comparatively  small  farms 
that  could  be  profitably  worked  by  owners  who  could 
pay  for  necessary  labor,  the  convenience  of  slaves 
was  easy  to  forego,  and  the  public  conscience  began 
to  work  for  abolition.  As  early  as  1733  Sandwich 
voted:  "that  our  representative  is  instructed  to  en- 
deavor to  have  an  act  passed  by  the  Court  to  prevent 
the  importation  of  slaves  into  this  country;  and  that 
all  children  that  shall  be  born  of  such  Africans  as 
are  now  slaves  among  us,  shall  after  such  act  be  free 
at  twenty-one  years  of  age."  Five  years  later  selling 
slaves  in  the  American  market  was  prohibited  at 
Boston.  It  is  at  Truro,  one  may  believe,  that  one  of 
the  last  slave  trades  on  the  Cape  was  consummated 
when,  in  1726,  Benjamin  Collins  bought  from  a 
neighbor  Hector,  aged  three,  for  thirty  pounds,  and 
in  due  time  made  a  Christian  of  him,  as  the  parish 
records  show.  Hector  grew  to  a  great  age,  and  evinced 
confidence  in  salvation,  among  other  ways,  by  praying 
in  loud  tones  as  he  went  to  his  labor  in  the  fields  of 
the  Truro  Highlands  where,  sure  gage  of  notability, 


106  OLD  CAPE  COD 

certain  expressions  to  commemorate  him  crept  into 
the  vernacular  —  "Old  Hector,"  "black  as  Hector," 
"Hector's  Nook,"  "Hector's  Stubble,"  "Hector's 
Bridge." 

In  the  later  years,  preceding  the  Civil  War,  it  was 
natural  that  among  a  people  which  had  always  counted 
many  progressives,  there  should  be  Abolitionists. 
They  were  kindly  folk,  it  is  said,  "with  strong  convic- 
tions, never  attending  church  because  the  sermons 
did  not  condemn  slavery"  —  the  early  racial  touch 
cropping  out,  it  seems,  in  this  later  generation.  Some 
of  the  ships  of  an  Osterville  owner  even  landed  run- 
away slaves  on  the  south  shore  whence  they  passed 
along  by  "underground  railway"  to  a  certain  house 
in  Barnstable.  One  remembers  that  as  a  boy  he  used 
to  go  there  to  teach  them  their  letters;  and  he  also  re- 
members that  "they  were  treated  as  equals;  but  some- 
times they  made  their  way  to  'Mary  Dunn's  Road' 
where  they  found  rum  and  congenial  companions." 

Finance,  swinging  from  stringency  to  inflation  of 
the  currency,  was  an  ever-present  problem  in  the  col- 
ony during  the  French  and  Indian  Wars.  In  the  mid- 
eighteenth  century,  a  land  bank  was  proposed  in  the 
hope  of  using  land  as  the  basis  for  credit  in  a  country 
where  gold  and  silver  were  so  lacking,  with  a  result 
disastrous  to  many  farmers  on  the  Cape.  In  1748 
paper  was  called  in  and  the  "piece  of  eight,"  or  Span- 
ish dollar,  made  the  standard;  but  again  the  easy  issue 
of  paper  was  too  great  a  temptation,  again  there  was 
depreciation  and  instability,  again  the  struggle  back 
to  a  standard  dollar.  In  1749,  after  "King  George's 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  107 

War,"  England  liquidated  the  war  debt  of  the  Prov- 
ince by  paying  into  the  treasury  at  Boston  a  fund  of 
some  one  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  pounds  that 
were  carted  through  the  streets  in  seventeen  truck- 
loads  of  silver  and  ten  of  copper.  Henceforth  it  was 
provided  that  all  debts  should  be  paid  in  coined  silver, 
which  is  said  to  originate  the  term  "lawful  money." 

ii 

ALL  these  fifty  years  since  the  accession  of  William 
and  Mary  had  been  complicated  by  more  or  less  par- 
ticipation in  the  foreign  wars  of  the  mother  country; 
and  the  hereditary  hatred  of  France  and  England 
lived  on,  with  new  occasions,  in  their  colonies.  Those 
of  France  had  been  planted  and  fostered  by  the  crown; 
those  of  England  largely  by  her  rebels;  Catholic 
France  never  could  sympathize  with  the  English  here- 
tics; and  now  that  the  power  of  Spain  was  broken, 
French  and  English  traders  and  fishermen  were  the 
chief  rivals  for  domination  of  the  new  countries  and 
the  seas,  east  and  west,  north  and  south,  the  world 
over.  In  1689  the  principle  of  colonial  neutrality  had 
been  proposed  by  France  and  rejected,  to  her  con- 
siderable subsequent  cost,  by  England.  And  at  the 
beginning  of  "King  William's  War,"  so-called, Massa- 
chusetts, commanded  by  the  Governor,  Sir  William 
Phips,  set  forth  on  her  adventure  for  the  reduction  of 
Port  Royal  and  Quebec.  Port  Royal  fell,  its  loot  pay- 
ing for  the  expedition,  but  was  retaken  by  the  French. 
France's  reply  was  an  invasion  of  the  border,  as- 
sisted by  her  Indian  allies;  and  now  and  thereafter 


108  OLD  CAPE  COD 

throughout  the  French  wars  there  was  great  appre- 
hension, particularly  by  Cape  Cod  in  its  defenceless 
state,  of  French  sea-raids  on  the  New  England  coast. 
After  the  Peace  of  Ryswick,  in  1697,  France  claimed 
all  the  fisheries  east  of  the  Kennebec  and  all  English 
boats  there  found  were  forfeit  by  order  of  the  king — • 
fruitful  cause,  one  may  suppose,  for  fresh  quarrels. 
And  no  later  than  1702  "Queen  Anne's  War"  revived 
the  Indian  raids,  and  the  sacking  of  Deerfield  roused 
the  colonies  to  a  holy  war.  On  the  Continent,  mean- 
time, "Malbrough  s'en  va-t-en  guerre"  and  in  1713 
the  Peace  of  Utrecht  ended  the  French  wars  for 
thirty -three  years'  breathing  space;  in  the  new  world 
France  lost  forever  Newfoundland,  Nova  Scotia,  and 
the  Hudson  Bay  Territory. 

In  these  wars  five  expeditions  had  been  fitted  out 
by  the  colonies  to  attack  the  enemy  on  the  east,  under 
Colonel  Benjamin  Church,  and  in  his  command  were 
found  the  Cape  Cod  men.  Thomas  Dimmock,  of 
Barnstable,  fell,  fighting  gallantly,  at  the  battle  of 
Canso.  He  would  not  shelter  himself,  as  did  the  other 
officers,  but  stood  boldly  out  in  the  open  cheering  on 
his  men  —  a  conspicuous  mark  for  sharpshooters. 
Major  Walley,  son  of  the  old  minister,  was  another 
officer  —  a  gallant  figure,  handsome  and  debonair,  as 
a  portrait  of  him,  in  fine  surtout,  ruffles  and  periwig, 
testifies;  and  there  was  Caleb  Williamson  in  com- 
mand of  the  Plymouth  forces,  and  Captain  Gorham, 
later  lieutenant-colonel,  son  of  the  old  Indian  fighter 
of  Philip's  War.  And  Gorham,  especially,  did  unique 
and  valuable  service  in  command  of  the  ''whale- 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  109 

boat  fleet."  These  light-draft  boats,  manned  by  whale- 
men and  Indians,  could  transport  men  and  supplies 
up  the  shallow  bays  and  rivers  to  the  spot  where  they 
were  most  needed;  and  without  such  a  device,  the 
enemy,  stationed  for  the  most  part  where  the  trans- 
ports could  not  land  troops,  would  have  been  hard 
come  at  by  marches  overland  through  the  wilderness. 
At  night,  or  in  bad  weather,  the  boats  were  taken 
ashore  and  turned  over  to  serve  as  shelter.  In  1704 
Church  called  for  fifty  of  these  boats,  and  that  winter 
visited  every  town  on  the  Cape  to  recruit  men.  "For 
years  after,"  writes  Amos  Otis,  "these  old  sailors  and 
soldiers,  seated  in  their  roundabout  chairs,  within 
their  capacious  chimney-corners,  would  relate  to  the 
young  their  adventures  in  'the  Old  French  Wars."5 

In  1739  there  was  an  abortive  war  with  Spain  when 
Cape  men  enlisted  for  an  expedition  to  the  Spanish 
Main  where  many  died  of  disease,  and  there  was  no 
result  beyond  a  further  impoverishment  of  the  coun- 
try. And  by  1745  England  and  France,  drawn  as  they 
were  into  the  War  of  the  Austrian  Succession,  were 
fighting  out  in  America  "King  George's  War."  In 
April  of  that  year  thirty-five  hundred  troops,  chiefly 
"substantial  persons  and  men  of  beneficial  occupa- 
tions," sailed  from  Boston  under  another  fighting 
Governor,  Sir  William  Pepperell,  to  attack  Louisburg, 
the  "Gibraltar  of  America."  In  this  force  the  Seventh 
Massachusetts  was  known  as  the  "Gorham  Rangers" 
under  the  command  of  a  Gorham  of  the  third  genera- 
tion. With  him,  as  it  chanced,  was  a  descendant  of 
Richard  Bourne,  William  by  name,  whom  an  Indian 


110  OLD  CAPE  COD 

medicine-man  had  cured  in  childhood  when  white 
doctors  had  given  him  up  as  dying.  William  came 
scathless  through  the  wars  to  die  in  old  age,  rich  and 
respected,  at  Marblehead. 

In  the  following  June  Louisburg  fell.  Colonel  Gor- 
ham  commanded  a  whaleboat  fleet  as  had  his  father 
under  Churchill;  and  the  first  man  to  enter  the 
Grand  Battery,  was  one  of  the  thirteen  Indians  in 
Captain  Thacher's  Yarmouth  contingent,  who,  for 
the  bribe  of  a  bottle  of  brandy,  crawled  through  an 
embrasure  and  opened  the  door  to  the  besiegers. 
The  exploit  was  the  less  glorious  as  it  was  apparent 
that  the  enemy  had  evacuated  the  place. 

Great  was  the  joy  throughout  New  England  at  the 
successful  outcome  of  the  siege,  and  not  least  in  the 
Old  Colony  which  had  contributed  so  many  men  to  the 
enterprise.  Paeans  of  praise  ascended  from  the  pul- 
pits; bards  broke  forth  into  verse.  "The  Wonder- 
working Providence"  recites  the  prowess  of  certain 
heroes  from  the  Cape: 

"  Lieutenant-Colonel  Gorham,  nigh  of  kin 
To  his  deceased  Head,  did  honor  win; 
Unite  in  nature,  name,  and  trust,  they  stood  — 
Unitedly  have  done  their  country  good. 
May  Major  Thacher  live,  in  rising  fame 
Worthy  of  ancestors  that  bear  his  name, 
And  copy  after  virtuous  relations 
Who  so  well  filled  their  civil,  sacred,  military  stations. 
Now  Captain  Carey,  seized  with  sickness  sore, 
Resigned  to  death  when  touched  his  native  shore; 
And  Captain  Demmick  slain  by  heathen's  hand 
As  was  his  father  under  like  command." 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  111 

Rejoicing  was  shortly  tempered  by  wholesome  dread 
of  reprisals.  As  a  fact  France,  enraged  at  the  loss  of 
her  stronghold,  was  sending  out  a  great  armament 
under  command  of  the  Due  d'Anville,  not  only  to  re- 
take Louisburg,  but  to  ravage  the  New  England  coast. 
There  were  eleven  ships  of  the  line  and  thirty  smaller 
vessels,  as  well  as  transports  for  three  thousand  men. 
But  Providence  was  to  intervene  for  the  humbling  of 
French  pride  and  the  salvation  of  the  faithful.  Storms 
reduced  the  armada  one  half  before  it  could  even  make 
port,  disease  swept  away  most  of  the  troops,  the  two 
commanders  died  suddenly,  by  suicide  men  were 
ready  to  say,  and  the  remnant  of  the  fleet,  without 
striking  a  blow,  sailed  back  to  France.  The  Cape, 
especially,  had  been  alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  such  a 
punitive  expedition :  she  urged  the  danger  to  her  long 
coast-line;  Truro  petitioned  the  General  Court  for 
protection,  and  received  a  four-pound  cannon,  some 
small  arms  and  ammunition. 

The  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  in  1748,  ended  the 
general  conflict,  and  in  the  negotiations  overseas 
hard-bought  Louisburg,  to  the  great  displeasure  of 
the  colonists,  was  traded  for  more  valuable  consider- 
ations elsewhere.  In  America  guerrilla  warfare,  a  raid 
here,  a  raid  there,  continued;  and  in  three  years'  time, 
the  greatest  conflict  of  the  series,  when  Washington 
and  other  young  officers  got  their  training  for  a  greater 
war  to  follow,  was  raging  all  along  the  border.  It  ter- 
minated, in  1763,  with  the  Peace  of  Paris,  when  France 
gave  over  to  England  her  last  American  holdings. 
The  colonies  had  learned  painfully  lessons  to  their 


112  OLD  CAPE  COD 

great  advantage  in  the  struggle  with  the  mother  coun- 
try that  was  even  then  beginning;  and  when  the 
clash  came,  France  was  glad  to  range  herself  with  the 
colonists  for  another  blow  at  her  old  enemy  England. 

It  was  during  this  war  that  England  broke  up  some 
of  the  French  communities'  that  had  remained  unmo- 
lested since  Nova  Scotia  was  ceded  to  her  by  the  Peace 
of  Utrecht;  and  the  "neutral  French,"  as  they  were 
called,  were  scattered  throughout  the  colonies  from 
New  Hampshire  to  Georgia.  Longfellow's  poem  of 
"Evangeline"  tells  the  story  of  those  pathetic  exiles; 
and  we  know  that  in  July,  1756,  a  little  band  of  Aca- 
dians,  ninety  souls  in  all,  men,  women,  and  children, 
landed  from  seven  two-mast  boats  at  Bourne.  They 
were  tenderly  received,  we  may  believe,  by  the 
people  who  had  never  refused  shelter  to  the  unfortu- 
nate. Silas  Bourne  wrote  to  James  Otis  asking  what 
should  be  done  with  them,  and  eventually  their  boats 
were  sold  and  they  were  distributed  among  the  neigh- 
boring towns.  It  is  not  improbable  that  Peter  Cotelle, 
of  Barnstable,  was  of  this  company  —  a  Frenchman 
who  lived  in  a  gambrel-roofed  cottage  set  in  a  pretty 
garden.  He  was  a  tinker  by  trade,  and  made  shrewd 
use  of  his  imperfect  English,  it  is  said,  in  driving  a 
bargain. 

The  Cape  seems  to  have  furnished  no  leaders  in  this 
war  where  so  many  famous  men  fought,  but,  steadily, 
she  gave  her  quota  of  men  and  her  money;  and  Amos 
Otis  has  preserved  for  our  delectation  the  stories  of 
many  of  the  humbler  folk  of  the  time.  There  was  a 
Barnstable  man  who  had  shipped  as  carpenter  aboard 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  113 

a  privateer  which  soon  brought  into  Boston  as  prize  a 
Spanish  ship  laden  with  dollars  and  bullion.  By  some 
means  the  ship  was  made  out  to  be  French  property, 
and  the  Yankee  captain  offered  each  of  his  men  for 
prize  money  as  much  silver  as  he  could  carry  from 
Long  Wharf  to  the  head  of  State  Street,  with  the 
chance  of  forfeiting  the  whole  if  he  stopped  to  rest  by 
the  way.  Barnstable,  apparently,  cut  his  cloth  to  fit 
his  stature  and  came  off  with  some  two  thousand 
dollars  and  a  little  hoard  of  silver  to  boot  which  he 
discovered  in  a  ship's  boat  he  had  purchased.  At  any 
rate,  he  had  enough  to  lay  the  foundation  of  a  snug 
fortune  which  he  augmented  by  becoming  something 
of  a  usurer  in  his  native  town.  As  a  young  man  his 
marriage  had  been  delayed  from  year  to  year  through 
a  difference  with  his  sweetheart  as  to  where  they 
should  live.  He  preferred  the  village  where  he  had 
learned  his  trade,  she,  being  well-to-do,  her  own  good 
farm  at  Great  Marshes.  In  the  end  she  prevailed;  and 
no  doubt,  as  one  who  knew  her  will  and  practised  ef- 
fective methods  to  obtain  it,  contributed  her  due 
share  to  the  family  fortune.  The  grandchildren,  Otis 
implies,  "having  no  reverence  for  antiquity  or  love  of 
hoarding,"  made  the  dollars  fly. 

A  Gorham  of  this  generation  seems  to  have  had  an 
over-supply  of  such  "reverence  for  antiquity" :  he  was 
so  wedded  to  the  customs  of  his  fathers  that  he  would 
not  use  a  tipcart  because  they  had  none,  and  drove 
his  team  with  a  pole  as  they  had  done;  he  farmed  by 
their  methods,  and  made  salt,  though  it  were  bad 
salt,  by  their  mode  of  boiling.  He  had  other  oddities, 


114  OLD  CAPE  COD 

such  as  fastening  his  shirt  in  the  back  with  a  loop  and 
nail,  and  eschewing  rum  in  a  time  when  the  best  kept 
tavern  and  drank  thereat;  he  lived  on  salt-meat  broth, 
bread  and  milk,  hasty-pudding  and  samp;  he  was 
honest,  industrious,  a  good  neighbor  and  citizen,  as 
valuable  to  the  community,  perhaps,  as  his  more  bril- 
liant kinsmen. 

A  somewhat  younger  man  than  he,  born  in  1739, 
a  doctor  by  profession,  who  seldom  practised,  had 
no  such  antipathy  to  rum,  though  it  is  said  he  never 
got  drunk  save  at  another's  charge.  At  such  times 
he  obliged  the  company  with  "Old  King  Cole,"  his 
only  song,  and  also  with  well-worn  stories  of  some 
earlier  adventures  in  Maine.  There  is  record  of  a  cer- 
tain Christmas  party  at  Hyannis  when  at  mid- 
night, song  sung  and  story  told,  he  was  helped  on  his 
old  gray  mare  for  the  journey  home.  Left  to  herself 
the  mare  would  have  taken  him  safe  there,  but  he 
must  needs  turn  into  a  narrow  lane,  where,  in  the  bril- 
liant moonlight  he  spied  the  mild  phosphorescence  of 
a  rotten  log.  A  fire,  thought  he,  very  likely  his  own 
fire,  and  drew  off  his  boots  to  warm  his  chilled  feet. 
Resuming  his  journey,  at  dawn  he  came  upon  the 
highway  and  lashed  his  mare  to  the  gallop,  but,  as 
it  chanced,  in  the  wrong  direction.  "Gentlemen," 
cried  he,  drawing  up  to  accost  some  early  travellers, 
"can  you  tell  me  whether  I  am  in  this  town  or  the 
next?"  They  answered  cavalierly  enough:  "You're 
in  this  town  now,  but 't  won't  be  long  before  you're  in 
the  next  at  that  rate."  And  perceiving  his  state,  they 
saw  to  it  that  he  straightway  had  breakfast  and 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  115 

boots.  Nor  was  this  the  end  of  the  affair,  which  the 
village  boys  improved  for  their  amusement.  A  ring  at 
his  bell:  "Doctor,  just  wanted  to  ask  if  you'd  found 
your  boots."  —  "Doctor,  am  I  in  this  town  or  the 
next?"  And  they  never  failed  to  dodge  the  lash  of  his 
whip  which  he  kept  handy  to  the  door  for  such  visitors. 
He  was  the  first  village  postmaster,  and  during  the 
wars,  when  men  were  eager  for  the  news  which  came 
bi-weekly  from  Boston,  it  was  on  mail  nights  that  the 
boys  and  men  of  the  village  gathered  about  his  fire  and 
listened  to  his  old  stories  of  Maine.  He  was  a  genial 
soul,  a  little  simple-minded,  one  who  liked  to  make 
a  show  of  business  by  laying  out  spurs  and  saddle- 
bags of  a  night  as  if  ready  for  a  call.  The  village  li- 
brary was  kept  at  his  house,  and  administered  by  his 
daughter. 

The  stories  go  on,  with  a  touch  here  and  a  touch 
there  to  accent  the  village  flavor.  The  Bodfishes,  huge 
father  and  huge  sons,  lived  a  patriarchal  life  on  their 
farm;  for  more  than  seventy  years  their  estate  was 
held  in  common,  the  father  acting  as  trustee  and 
granting  his  sons  only  as  much  as  would  qualify  them 
for  voters.  And  a  scion  of  the  less  illustrious  branch  of 
a  prominent  family  was  ready  to  argue  his  claim  for 
preeminence:  "We'll  discuss  that,"  he  would  thunder 
with  swelling  port.  And  won  the  sobriquet  of  "Scus- 
sion  Sam"  for  his  pains.  There  was  another  member  of 
the  same  family  whose  shrewd  humor  served  as  well 
as  roguery.  He  was  master  of  the  little  packet  nick- 
named Somerset  after  the  British  man-of-war,  which 
carried  to  Boston  onions,  among  other  cargo,  for  the 


116  OLD  CAPE  COD 

West  Indies  market.  "Gentlemen,"  said  he  persua- 
sively to  some  possible  buyers,  "these  are  what  are 
called  *  tarnity '  onions;  they'll  keep  to  all  eternity." 
But  a  week  out  of  port  on  their  way  to  the  south,  the 
onions  had  to  be  thrown  overboard.  At  another  time 
he  outsailed  a  neighbor  who  was  shipping  onions  to  a 
Salem  trader,  and  presented  his  own  cargo  in  their 
stead.  "But  how  about  Huckins?"  asked  the  trader. 
"My  son-in-law,"  returned  the  captain  glibly.  "Here 
are  the  onions."  One  may  fancy  that  tavern  and  liv- 
ing-room buzzed  with  the  news  of  this  trick  when  the 
discomfited  Huckins  made  the  home  port.  Still 
another  member  of  the  family  was  of  different  mould 

—  one  who  gloried  in  the  ease  his  poverty  gave  him. 
"I'm  thankful  I  don't  own  that  number  of  cattle," 
commented  he,  watching  a  neighbor  laboring  over  his 
stock  on  a  snowy  day.  "Squire  and  I,"  said  he  again 
genially,  "keep  more  cows  than  any  other  two  men  in 
town."  Squire,  his  brother,  had  twenty  cows,  he  one. 

But  the  account  of  Barnabas  Downs  best  typifies, 
perhaps,  the  tranquil  village  life  that  flowed  on  amid 
the  outer  turmoil  of  war  and  politics  and  finance.  He 
was  born  in  1730  and  lived  long  and  laborious  years  on 
his  thirty-acre  farm,  which  supported  some  cattle,  a 
horse  or  two,  a  large  flock  of  sheep,  and  produced 
sufficient  grain  and  vegetables.  His  stock  ran  at  large 
through  the  summer ;  his  winter  hay  he  cut  in  the  salt 
meadows.  His  clothing  was  made  from  the  wool  of  his 
sheep;  the  surplus  produce  of  his  farm  he  traded  for 
groceries  at  the  village  shop,  and  exchanged  labor  for 
labor  with  blacksmith,  shoemaker,  and  carpenter. 


THE  FRENCH  WARS  117 

Sometimes  he  shipped  onions  to  Boston;  but  he  had 
little  money,  and  needed  little.  And  at  this  time  his 
class  of  small  farmers  made  perhaps  more  than  half 
the  population  in  any  one  of  the  Cape  towns  except 
those,  like  Truro,  where  practically  every  man  in  the 
community  "went  to  sea"  —  simple,  industrious 
creatures,  who  lived  comfortably  by  another  stand- 
ard than  ours,  and  were  not  unmindful  of  larger  in- 
terests than  their  own.  "He  was  the  most  independ- 
ent of  men,"  is  the  comment  of  Otis.  "Six  days  he 
labored  and  did  all  his  work,  and  the  seventh  was  a 
day  of  rest." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  ENGLISH  WARS 

I 

THE  difficulties  incident  to  the  French  wars  had 
given  the  colonies  useful  training  to  prepare  them  for 
concerted  action  against  the  stupid  enactments  of  the 
mother  country  in  the  reign  of  George  III.  England, 
fully  occupied  with  the  great  continental  wars  of 
which  the  American  conflicts  were  only  a  by-product, 
had  been  forced  largely  to  let  the  colonies  fend  for 
themselves.  When  border  hostilities  were  growing  to 
the  final  French  and  Indian  War,  she  had  suggested 
the  expediency  of  their  cooperating  for  defence;  and 
just  twenty-two  years  before  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence came  into  being,  Benjamin  Franklin  had 
been  ready  to  present  to  a  Colonial  Council,  called  to 
parley  with  the  Six  Nations,  a  plan  of  confederation 
which,  being  objected  to  by  some  as  giving  "too  much 
power  to  the  people"  and  by  others  as  conceding 
"too  much  to  the  king,"  came  to  naught.  But  the 
fact  was  established  that  all  the  colonies,  and  not 
only  those  of  New  England,  were  learning  to  act  to- 
gether. And  the  great  drift  away  from  mutual  un- 
derstanding with  England,  which  in  the  beginning,  one 
would  think,  might  have  been  so  easily  checked,  in- 
creased. The  colonies  knew  that  by  their  valor  chiefly 
had  been  established  in  America  the  supremacy  of 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  119 

England,  and  their  youthful  pride  was  quick  to  take 
offence.  In  1760,  when  a  Royal  Governor,  in  his  in- 
augural, cited  "the  blessings  of  subjection  to  Great 
Britain,"  the  Massachusetts  House  was  careful  to 
express  their  "relation"  to  the  Home  Government. 
His  predecessor,  who  had  been  more  sympathetic  to 
the  genius  of  the  colonies,  lived  to  warn  Parliament 
that  never  would  America  submit  to  injustice.  Yet 
year  by  year  was  injustice  done.  As  early  as  1761 
oppressive  trade  acts  had  brought  out  the  flaming 
eloquence  of  young  James  Otis,  of  Barnstable.  "I 
argue  in  favor  of  British  liberties,"  cried  he  in  the 
Massachusetts  Chamber.  "I  oppose  the  kind  of 
power  the  exercise  of  which  in  former  periods  of  Eng- 
lish history  cost  one  king  of  England  his  head  and 
another  his  throne."  For  four  hours,  spellbound,  the 
Court  listened  to  his  plea;  and  well  might  John  Adams, 
who  heard  him  that  day,  aver:  "American  independ- 
ence was  then  and  there  born."  And  for  the  next  ten 
years  by  his  pamphlets,  "The  Vindication  of  the 
Conduct  of  the  House  of  Representatives"  and  "The 
Rights  of  the  British  Colonies  Asserted  and  Proved," 
by  his  letters,  and  other  writings,  it  has  been  truly 
said  that  Otis  "led  the  movement  for  civil  liberty  in 
Massachusetts . ' ' 

As  if  urged  on  to  foolishness  by  a  decree  of  fate 
that  America  should  be  a  nation,  England  continued 
to  blunder :  she  sought  to  extinguish  the  military  spirit 
that  had  been  so  useful  to  her  by  creating  a  stand- 
ing army  which,  although  independent  of  them,  the 
colonies  should  support;  she  obstructed  manufactur- 


120  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ing  that  the  colonies  might  be  dependent  upon  British 
markets;  by  prohibitive  foreign  duties  she  restricted 
trade  to  British  ports,  and  even  taxed  trade  between 
colony  and  colony  for  the  benefit  of  the  imperial 
treasury.  No  wonder  the  colonies  were  assured  that 
England  meant  to  get  an  undue  portion  of  the  war 
expense  from  them.  And  when  Englishmen  com- 
plained that  rich  colonists  lived  like  lords  while  they 
were  impoverished  with  taxes,  the  colonists  were 
ready  to  retort  that  England  had  appropriated  Can- 
ada, the  prize  won  largely  through  their  efforts,  and 
that  they  had  already  taxed  themselves  to  the  limit 
to  pay  their  own  way.  But  England,  undeterred  by 
warnings  at  home  and  plain  signs  of  storm  in  the 
colonies,  still  pleading  "the  vast  debt"  incurred  "in 
defence  of  her  American  possessions,"  in  March,  1765, 
passed  the  obnoxious  Stamp  Act  which  prescribed  the 
use  of  stamped  paper  for  business  and  legal  docu- 
ments, newspapers  and  pamphlets:  an  annoying 
enough  provision  in  itself,  but  the  crux  of  the  diffi- 
culty was  that  England,  without  the  consent  of  the 
colonies,  imposed  the  tax. 

In  October  a  congress  of  deputies  met  in  New  York 
to  "consult  on  the  common  interest,"  and  was  pre- 
sided over  by  Timothy  Ruggles,  who  had  married 
the  Widow  Bathsheba  Newcomb,  of  Sandwich,  and 
lived  there  for  some  years  as  lawyer  and  tavern- 
keeper.  He  is  said  to  have  been  a  man  of  charm  and 
wit,  a  clever  politician,  and  a  patriot  who  later  turned 
Tory.  The  congress  set  forth  in  no  uncertain  terms 
"the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  natural-born  subjects^ 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  121 

of  Great  Britain  .  .  .  which  Parliament  by  its  recent 
action  has  invaded."  And  pre-dating  the  Boston  Tea 
Party,  it  was  another  man  with  Cape  affiliations, 
Captain  Isaac  Sears,  who,  in  other  fashion,  defeated 
the  excisemen.  "Hurrah,  boys,"  cried  he  at  the  head 
of  a  New  York  mob,  "we  will  have  the  stamps."  And 
have  them  they  did,  and  burned  them,  too.  Sears  be- 
came head  of  a  Committee  for  Public  Safety,  and  when 
Gage  was  trying  to  buy  material  in  New  York, 
warned  the  citizens  that  America  best  keep  her  sup- 
plies for  her  own  use.  His  sobriquet  of  "King  Sears" 
tells  us  something  of  his  personality. 

England,  against  the  advice  of  her  ablest  men, 
proceeded  on  her  ruinous  way.  Some  parliamentary 
bombast  about  "these  Americans  nurtured  so  '  are- 
fully  by  the  motherland"  was  neatly  punctured  by 
Captain  Barre,  a  member  who  had  lived  in  the  colo- 
nies: "Planted  by  your  care?  No,  your  oppressions 
planted  them  in  America,"  thundered  he.  "Nour- 
ished by  your  indulgence?  They  grew  by  your  neg- 
lect. Protected  by  your  arms?  They  themselves  have 
n'obly  taken  up  arms  in  your  defence."  "They  are  too 
much  like  yourselves  to  be  driven,"  was  his  parting 
shot.  And  in  the  Lords,  Camden  was  announcing: 
"You  have  no  right  to  tax  America;  I  have  searched 
the  matter.  I  repeat  it.  ...  Were  I  an  American,  I 
would  resist  to  the  last  drop  of  my  blood."  Asked  in 
what  book  he  found  such  law,  he  proudly  answered: 
"It  has  been  the  custom  of  England;  and,  my  lords, 
the  custom  of  England  is  the  law  of  the  land."  At  Bos- 
ton, as  in  antiphon,  James  Otis  declared:  "Let  Great 


122  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Britain  rescind;  if  she  does  not,  the  colonies  are  lost  to 
her." 

A  convention  of  towns,  those  of  the  Cape  included, 
calling  upon  the  king  for  redress,  appealed  to  "the 
sovereign  people."  The  king's  ministers  answered  by 
garrisoning  Boston  with  four  thousand  royal  troops 
which  the  Whigs  were  now  ready  to  view  as  a  foreign 
aggression.  Non-importation  associations,  under  the 
motto,  "United  we  conquer;  divided  we  die,"  were 
formed  —  Boston  leading,  the  Cape  towns  following 
close.  In  the  general  excitement  Massachusetts  boiled 
hottest:  for  in  her  capital  were  the  royal  troops  and 
here,  naturally,  was  the  first  clash  of  arms.  The  year 
1770  brought  the  "Boston  massacre";  and  in  the 
same  year,  under  Lord  North,  all  duties  were  remitted 
save  those  on  tea  —  England  had  bound  herself  to 
the  East  India  Company  there:  to  no  avail,  since  the 
right  to  tax  was  reserved.  Yet  the  repeal  was  wel- 
comed as  a  partial  victory  by  all  but  the  hot-heads 
who  were  determined  on  separation ;  and  Englishmen, 
who  had  taken  a  burning  interest  in  the  struggle  of 
the  colonies,  rejoiced.  London  celebrated  the  event 
with  clash  of  Bow  Bells  and  dressed  ships  on  the 
Thames. 

Then,  in  1773,  came  the  little  fleet  of  tea  ships  to 
Boston;  and  Boston,  though  she  liked  tea,  promptly 
threw  it  into  the  harbor.  Captain  Benjamin  Gorham, 
of  the  Barnstable  family,  was  master  of  one  of  the 
ships,  with  a  cargo  of  "Bohea";  and  it  was  solemnly 
reported  that  "this  evening  a  number  of  Indians,  it  is 
said  of  his  Majesty  of  Ocnookorlunkoog  tribe,  einp- 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  123 

tied  every  chest  into  the  dock  and  destroyed  the 
whole  twenty-eight  and  a  half  chests."  And  Cape 
Cod  had  her  private  Tea  Party:  for  one  of  the  fleet 
had  run  aground  on  the  "Back  Side"  at  Province- 
town.  John  Greenough,  district  clerk  of  Wellfleet  and 
teacher  of  a  grammar  school  "attended  by  such  only 
as  learn  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages,"  busied  him- 
self about  the  task  of  transferring  the  cargo  to  Boston; 
but  no  Cape  captain,  though  several  were  idle,  would 
undertake  the  job,  and  boats  were  had  down  from 
Boston  for  the  purpose.  The  Boston  Committee  of 
Correspondence,  meantime,  sent  out  a  circular  letter 
reporting  their  Tea  Party,  and  adding:  "the  people 
at  the  Cape  will  we  hope  behave  with  propriety  and 
as  becomes  men  resolved  to  save  their  Country."  For 
it  was  suspected  that  not  all  the  wrecked  tea  had 
been  shipped  to  Boston;  and  indeed  it  soon  transpired 
that  Master  Greenough,  seeing  no  harm  since  the 
Government  got  no  duty,  had  thriftily  retained  two 
damaged  cases  for  himself  and  a  friend.  Brought  to 
see  his  error,  his  due  apology  was  spread  upon  the 
records :  "I  do  declare  I  had  no  intention  to  injure  the 
liberties  of  my  countrymen  therein.  And  whereas  the 
Committee  of  Correspondence  for  this  district  appre- 
hend that  I  have  abused  them,  in  a  letter  I  sent  them, 
I  do  declare  I  had  no  such  intention,  and  wish  to  be 
reconciled  to  them  again  and  to  forget  and  forgive  on 
both  sides."  Other  tea  than  Greenougli's  hoard  was 
being  hunted  out.  A  Truro  town-meeting  records: 
"Several  persons  appeared  of  whom  it  had  been 
reported  that  they  had  purchased  small  quantities  of 


124  OLD  CAPE  COD 

the  East  India  company's  baneful  teas,  lately  cast 
ashore  at  Provincetown.  On  examining  these  persons 
it  appeared  that  their  buying  this  noxious  tea  was 
through  ignorance  and  inadvertance,  and  that  they 
were  induced  thereto  by  the  villainous  example  and 
artful  persuading  of  some  noted  pretended  friends  of 
government  from  the  neighboring  towns."  There  is 
evidence  enough  that  some  tea  floated  into  the  chan- 
nels of  trade;  but  any  one  guilty  of  the  traffic, 
when  apprehended,  was  quick  to  place  the  blame 
elsewhere. 

The  Cape  was  drawn  into  the  great  sweep  of  events. 
Town  meetings  were  held  to  consider  the  alarming 
conditions;  yet,  even  in  the  general  pinch  for  money, 
maintenance  was  steadily  voted  for  schools  and  clergy, 
though  it  was  suggested  that  a  minister  might  abate 
his  salary  "because  of  the  scarcity  of  money  and  the 
difficulties  of  the  times;  or  wait  for  the  balance."  And 
one  parson,  we  know,  did  give  up  fifty  pounds  of  his 
stipend.  Business  was  at  a  standstill,  and  many  per- 
sons, for  financial  rather  than  political  reasons  as  yet, 
left  Harwich,  Chatham,  and  other  towns  for  Nova 
Scotia,  the  better  there  to  trade  and  carry  on  the 
fisheries.  "Sons  of  Liberty"  were  organized  every- 
where; each  town  must  report  its  strength  "on  the 
side  of  liberty."  Yarmouth  would  have  no  tea  brought 
into  the  town;  in  Chatham  "a  large  number  signed 
against  tea";  Wellflect  pledged  itself  to  the  "defence 
of  liberty  ";  Barnstable,  Sandwich,  Eastham  had  their 
resolutions  of  protest.  Falmouth,  in  1774,  ordered 
every  man  from  sixteen  to  sixty  years  of  age  to  be 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  125 

given  arms.  Harwich  voted  to  buy  arms;  Truro  voted 
sympathy  with  the  common  cause.  And  Chatham,  in 
1772,  had  declared  "civil  and  religious  principles  to  be 
the  sweetest  and  essential  part  of  their  lives,  without 
which  the  remainder  was  scarcely  worth  preserving." 
England  had  gone  beyond  unjust  taxation  and  had 
dared  meddle  with  the  courts  —  the  trial  by  jury, 
the  appointees  to  the  bench  —  which  was  held  to 
vitiate  their  function.  "I  argue  in  favor  of  British 
liberties,"  had  been  James  Otis's  clarion  call;  and  at 
Barnstable,  in  September,  1774,  a  fine  comedy  was 
played  out  with  the  connivance,  it  was  suspected,  of 
James  Otis,  senior,  who  was  chief  justice  of  the  Court 
of  Common  Pleas.  He  was  to  be  charged  with  "hold- 
ing office  during  the  king's  pleasure"  and  receiving 
pay  from  revenue  derived  by  an  "edict  of  foreign 
despotism."  On  the  day  preceding  the  opening  of  the 
court  men  from  as  far  away  as  Middleborough  came 
flooding  into  Sandwich;  and  next  morning  a  small 
army  marched  thence  to  Barnstable  to  make  their  pro- 
test to  he  court.  At  their  head  was  Doctor  Nathaniel 
Freeman,  a  young  hot-head  of  a  Whig,  who  was  leader 
in  many  a  demonstration  against  the  Tories,  and  later 
was  to  put  his  martial  spirit  to  good  use  as  brigadier- 
general  in  the  Federal  Army.  He  was  a  gallant  figure, 
an  eye-witness  of  the  day's  doings  remembered,  in  "a 
handsome  black-lapelled  coat,  a  tied  wig  as  white  as 
snow,  a  set-up  hat  with  the  point  a  little  to  the  right: 
in  short,  he  had  the  very  appearance  of  fortitude  per- 
sonified." Joined  now  by  Barnstable  men,  the  patriots 
took  their  stand  in  front  of  the  courthouse.  They 


126  OLD  CAPE  COD 

improved  the  interval  of  waiting  for  the  court  to 
receive  the  recantations  of  several  Tories  who  had 
been  arrested  by  the  Commissioners  and  when  it 
came  to  a  public  declaration  of  sentiment  were  dis- 
posed, for  the  most  part,  as  a  current  doggerel  had  it, 
to 

"...  renounce  the  Pope,  the  Turk, 
The  King,  the  Devil,  and  all  his  work; 
And  if  you  will  set  me  at  ease, 
Turn  Whig  or  Christian  —  what  you  please." 

Now,  behold,  the  court:  Otis,  Winslow,  Bacon,  led 
by  the  sheriff  with  a  white  staff  in  his  left  hand  and  a 
drawn  sword  in  his  right.  "Gentlemen,"  demanded 
Otis,  "what  is  the  purpose  for  which  this  vast  as- 
semblage is  collected  here?"  Whereupon  Freeman, 
from  the  steps  of  the  court-house,  replied  in  a  fine 
speech,  the  upshot  of  which  was  that  they  proposed 
to  prevent  their  honors  from  holding  court  to  the  end, 
particularly,  that  there  should  be  no  appeals  to  the 
hated  higher  court  of  the  king's  council,  "well  know- 
ing if  they  have  no  business,  they  can  do  no  harm." 

"Sirs,  you  obstruct  the  law,"  thundered  Otis.  Then, 
more  mildly,  "Why  do  you  leap  before  you  come  to 
the  hedge?"  He  ordered  them  to  disperse,  and  cited 
his  "duty."  "We  shall  continue  to  do  ours,"countered 
Freeman.  "And  never,"  cries  one  who  saw  the  play, 
"never  have  I  seen  any  man  whatever  who  felt  quite 
so  cleverly  as  did  Doctor  Freeman  during  the  whole 
of  this  business." 

The  court  withdrew,  and,  waited  upon  later  by  a 
committee,  signed  an  agreement  not  to  accept  any 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  127 

commission  or  do  any  business  dependent  on  those 
acts  of  Parliament  that  tend  "to  change  our  consti- 
tution into  a  state  of  slavery."  The  protestants 
crowned  their  work  by  calling  upon  all  justices  and 
sheriffs  of  the  county  to  sign  the  agreement,  and  by 
adjuring  all  military  officers  to  refuse  service  under 
the  captain-general  "who  is  appointed  to  reduce  us  to 
obedience  to  the  late  unconstitutional  acts  and  who 
has  actually  besieged  the  capital  of  this  province  with 
a  fleet  and  army."  Barnstable  and  Yarmouth,  having 
been  interrogated  as  to  whether  they  had  dropped 
the  legislators  voting  against  the  Continental  Con- 
gress, their  affirmation  was  received  with  cheers.  That 
night  some  damage  was  done  the  new  Liberty  Pole, 
which  was  surmounted  by  a  gilt  ball,  one  of  the 
"miscreants"  blazoning  thereon: 

"Your  liberty  pole 

I  dare  be  bold 
Appears  like  Dagon  bright, 

But  it  will  fall 

And  make  a  scrawl 
Before  the  morning  light." 

Business  ran  over  into  the  next  day,  when  one  of 
the  suspects  in  the  affair  of  the  Liberty  Pole,  whether 
or  not  the  poet  is  not  recorded,  was  made  to  apologize. 
Again  the  assembly,  in  committee  of  the  whole  and 
"attended  by  music,"  waited  upon  Otis,  who  was 
lodged  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Davis.  Adjured  in  writing 
not  to  sit  in  the  king's  council,  but  rather  as  a  "con- 
stitutional councillor  of  this  province"  in  the  elected 
General  Court  at  Salem,  in  writing  he  expressed 


128  OLD  CAPE  COD 

gratitude  "for  putting  me  in  mind  of  my  duty;  I  am 
determined  to  attend  at  Salem  in  case  my  health  per- 
mits." To  the  reading  of  his  message  listened  "the 
whole  body  with  heads  uncovered  and  then  gave 
three  cheers  in  token  of  their  satisfaction  and  high 
appreciation  of  his  answer  as  well  as  esteem  and  ven- 
eration for  his  person  and  character."  In  final  session 
the  company  again  repudiated  the  hated  acts  of  Par- 
liament and  pledged  themselves  to  the  sacred  cause  of 
liberty,  registered  their  abhorrence  of  mobs  and  vio- 
lence, warned  off  any  other  molesters  of  the  Liberty 
Pole,  and  agreed  to  use  their  "endeavors  to  suppress 
common  peddlers."  The  last  a  matter  of  some  mys- 
tery until  one  knows  that  peddlers  were  prone  to  sell 
tea,  and  were  perhaps  suspected  of  being  spies.  Barn- 
stable  had  entertained  the  host  gratis,  and  the  hottest 
patriot  there  must  have  welcomed  its  withdrawal  to 
Sandwich,  where  it  proceeded  to  take  like  action 
against  Tories  and  possible  meddlers  with  the  town's 
Liberty  Pole.  Then,  amid  cheers  for  everybody,  Doc- 
tor Freeman's  company  broke  up  and  sifted  back  to 
their  homes,  but  he  himself  was  not  to  come  scathless 
out  of  his  adventure. 

Suspecting  a  ruse  when,  a  few  nights  later,  he  was 
summoned  to  a  dying  patient,  he  was  not  to  be  dis- 
appointed: for  as  he  passed  the  tavern,  three  of  the 
"recanters"  appeared  as  a  "Committee  of  the  Body 
of  the  People"  and  demanded  his  presence  within  to 
answer  for  his  actions.  Ignoring  them,  he  walked  on, 
but  on  his  return  he  was  set  upon  by  the  "Commit- 
tee," it  is  said,  and  crying  out  that  his  sword-cane 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  129 

was  his  only  weapon  he  laid  about  him  valiantly,  but 
was  knocked  senseless,  and  would  have  been  in  hard 
case  had  he  not  been  rescued  by  friends.  The  whole 
community,  it  seemed,  was  against  such  lawlessness. 
The  so-called  Tories  who  had  not  fled  were  arrested, 
and  on  the  plea  of  Freeman  got  off  with  a  fine  of  one 
hundred  pounds  "lawful  money."  But  the  people 
showed  no  such  clemency.  Sandwich,  after  an  indig- 
nation meeting  of  the  citizens,  rearrested  the  culprits 
and  forced  them,  on  a  scaffold  under  the  Liberty 
Pole,  to  sign  a  confession  acknowledging  that  their 
conduct  was  such  as  "would  disgrace  the  character 
of  a  ruffian  or  a  Hottentot,"  and  engaging  themselves 
in  future  "religiously  to  regard  the  laws  of  God  and 
man." 

The  Tories,  for  the  most  part,  were  no  such 
"Hottentots."  It  was  natural  in  such  a  settlement  as 
Cape  Cod  that  there  should  be  many  conservatives: 
men  descended  from  those  who  had  never  failed  in 
loyalty  to  the  English  Government,  were  it  Stuart 
or  Roundhead,  who  had  been  taught  to  love  England 
as  the  home  of  their  fathers,  and  the  source  of  law 
and  light.  As  late  as  1766  even  Franklin  was  declaring 
before  a  parliamentary  committee  that  "to  be  an  Old 
England  man  was  of  itself  a  character  of  respect  and 
gave  a  kind  of  rank  among  us,"  and  "they  considered 
Parliament  as  the  great  bulwark  and  security  of  their 
liberties."  There  were  as  a  fact  four  parties :  the  ardent 
Whigs  like  Nathaniel  Freeman,  who  were  separa- 
tists at  all  costs;  the  irreconcilable  Tories  who,  when 
war  was  imminent,  fled  behind  the  British  lines  in 


130  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Boston  or  New  York,  or  to  Nova  Scotia  and  Canada, 
or  to  England,  and,  in  the  case  of  Cape  Cod,  often  to 
the  islands  southward  where  they  could  be  in  easy 
communication  with  British  ships.  And  there  were 
the  moderates  of  both  camps:  Whigs  whose  sensi- 
bilities were  offended  by  the  extreme  methods  of  the 
radicals;  Tories,  chiefly  men  of  the  older  generation, 
who  lacked  pliancy  and  vision  to  respond  to  a  newer 
order;  and  with  the  latter  were  ranged,  at  any  rate  at 
the  beginning  of  the  trouble,  those  who  loved  freedom, 
they  could  swear,  yet  loved  better  present  securities 
and  feared  conflict  with  the  might  of  Britain.  As  time 
went  on  the  number  of  moderate  Whigs  steadily  in- 
creased, especially  in  the  Old  Colony  as  befitted  the 
sober  temper  of  the  Pilgrim  inheritance;  even  Joseph 
Otis,  of  Barnstable,  who  had  rivalled  Doctor  Nathan- 
iel Freeman  in  fervor,  was  to  join  them,  and  the  luke- 
warm, patriots  or  Tories,  were  ready  to  declare  for  the 
colonies.  Even  a  Tory  in  exile  could  be  secretly  elated 
by  the  prowess  of  his  countrymen;  and  one  such  in 
England  confided  to  his  diary  that  "these  conceited 
islanders"  may  learn  to  their  cost  that  "our  con- 
tinent can  furnish  brave  soldiers  and  judicious  ex- 
pert commanders."  It  speaks  well  for  the  Federal- 
ists that  after  the  war  was  over  and  many  extreme 
Tories  who  had  left  their  homes  petitioned  to  re- 
turn, they  were  reinstated  upon  pledge  of  loyalty  to 
the  new  State:  whether  restored  as  generously  to  the 
affection  of  their  neighbors  history  does  not  record, 
but  one  may  fancy  children's  gibes  to  the  third  gen- 
eration. In  Sandwich  there  were  many  Tories  who 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  131 

were  brought  to  conform;  but  it  is  said  there  was 
still  much  disaffection,  and  when  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  was  read  out  by  the  parson  on  a  cer- 
tain Sunday,  a  Tory  who  was  much  esteemed  in  the 
neighborhood  "trooped  scornfully  and  indignantly 
out  of  meeting." 

At  Cape  Cod  the  feud  between  Tory  and  Whig 
took  on  a  comedy  aspect  in  comparison  with  the 
vindictive  civil  war  which  it  presented  in  many 
counties  of  New  York  and  in  the  southern  colonies. 
At  Truro,  as  late  as  1774,  the  house  of  a  Whig  doctor 
was  attacked,  and  many  still  refused  to  employ  him; 
a  parson,  for  receiving  a  number  of  prominent  Whigs, 
was  admonished  by  some  of  his  parishioners.  At 
Barnstable  the  parties  had  their  headquarters  in 
rival  taverns;  and  at  Sturgis's,  where  Whigs  met 
every  evening  to  comment  on  the  news,  the  dis- 
cussion, running  high  between  moderates  and  radi- 
cals, sometimes  slopped  over  into  action.  After  one 
such  meeting  a  man  who  had  criticised  the  system  of 
espionage  that  wasted  energy  in  ferreting  out  old 
women's  secret  stores  of  tea,  had  his  fence  destroyed 
by  his  irate  neighbors.  Otis  and  Freeman,  it  seems, 
were  not  popular  with  the  militia  who,  at  a  review 
one  day,  clubbed  muskets  instead  of  presenting  arms. 
"The  Crockers  are  at  the  bottom  of  this,"  cried 
Joseph  Otis.  "You  lie,"  gave  back  Captain  Samuel 
Crocker.  A  fight  between  the  two  naturally  ensued; 
in  the  midst  of  which  Freeman,  who  was  not  the  man 
to  be  an  inactive  spectator,  turned  upon  another 
Crocker,  a  moderate  Whig  in  politics,  followed  him 


132  OLD  CAPE  COD 

into  his  house,  slashing  at  him  harmlessly  enough, 
and  in  his  turn  was  like  to  have  been  murdered  by  a 
younger  member  of  the  Crockers  thirsting  for  ven- 
geance. Freeman's  cutlass  took  effect  only  upon  the 
"summer  beam"  of  the  house;  and  years  afterwards, 
when  it  was  used  as  a  tavern,  Freeman,  who  had 
come  from  Sandwich  to  attend  court,  was  refused 
entertainment  there.  "My  house  is  full,"  quoth 
Madam  Crocker.  She  pointed  to  the  scars  of  the 
"summer  beam."  "And  if  it  were  not,  there  would 
be  no  room  for  Colonel  Freeman."  "Time  to  forget 
those  old  matters,  and  bury  the  hatchet,"  protested 
Freeman.  "Very  like,"  said  she,  "but  the  aggressor 
should  dig  the  grave." 

A  certain  young  woman,  suspected  of  disloyalty, 
and  asked  by  the  Vigilance  Committee  whether  she 
were  a  Tory,  answered  in  four  emphatic  words  which 
the  record  leaves  us  to  imagine  from  the  dark  com- 
ment: "The  Committee  never  forgot  them  and  ever 
after  treated  her  with  respect."  This  woman,  Amos 
Otis  tells  us,  never  lost  her  youthful  vivacity;  even  in 
old  age  she  was  gay,  responsive,  able  to  discuss  with 
equal  zest  the  latest  novel  or  parson's  sermon.  Her 
wit  was  keen,  and  the  point  "never  blunted  in  order 
to  avoid  an  allusion  which  prudery  might  condemn." 

There  was  a  more  serious  business  in  the  tarring 
and  feathering  of  the  Widow  Nabby  Freeman  of  which 
the  towns-people  were  sufficiently  ashamed,  evidently, 
to  charge  it  in  turn  to  Whig  and  Tory.  Freeman,  in 
his  history,  says  she  was  a  Whig,  the  victim  of  Tory 
spite;  Otis,  with  convincing  detail,  that  she  was  a 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  133 

Tory.  She  kept  a  small  grocery,  and  refused  to  sur- 
render her  tea  to  be  destroyed  by  the  Vigilance  Com- 
mittee. She  was  "a  thorn  in  their  sides  —  she  could 
out-talk  any  of  them,  was  fascinating  in  her  manners, 
and  had  an  influence  which  she  exerted,  openly  and 
defiantly,  against  the  patriotic  men  who  were  then 
hazarding  their  fortunes  and  their  lives  in  the  strug- 
gle for  American  independence."  Both  narratives 
agree  in  the  fact:  she  was  taken  from  her  bed  to  the 
village  green,  smeared  with  tar  and  feathers,  set 
astride  a  rail  and  ridden  about  the  town.  We  may 
fancy  the  tongue-lashing  her  persecutors  received  in 
the  process.  At  last  they  exacted  from  her  a  promise 
that  in  the  future  she  would  keep  clear  of  politics. 
The  men  who  carried  through  this  cruel  comedy  were 
not  eager  to  be  known;  yet  it  is  said  feeling  against  the 
Tories  ran  so  high  that  even  in  Sandwich,  which  had 
lamented  the  harsh  treatment  of  Quakers,  a  strong 
party  justified  the  act.  But  that  public  sentiment  did 
not  approve  such  rowdyism  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
it  stands  out  alone  in  unlovely  prominence. 

It  is  probable  that  many  a  private  grudge  was 
worked  off  in  this  cry  of  "Tory,  Tory."  When  Joseph 
Otis,  brother  of  the  patriot,  cited  a  prominent  towns- 
man for  disaffection,  the  court  held  the  accusation  to 
proceed  "rather  from  an  old  family  quarrel  and  was 
the  effect  of  envy  rather  than  matter  of  truth  and 
sobriety,  or  any  view  to  the  publick  good."  And  when 
as  a  deacon  he  had  been  haled  before  the  church  for 
his  political  opinions,  the  church  decided  that  it  had 
"no  right  to  call  its  members  to  an  account  for 


134  OLD  CAPE  COD 

actions  of  a  civil  and  public  nature,"  that  the  pro- 
testants  "  did  not  charge  the  deacon  with  immorality" 
and  that  it  "begged  leave  to  refer  them  to  a  civil 
tribunal."  It  is  further  recorded  in  a  later  month  that 
the  affair  between  the  deacon  and  "the  brethren, 
styled  petitioners,  was  happily  accommodated." 

Until  the  actual  clash  of  arms,  many  believed  that 
there  might  be  found  some  ground  for  reconciliation; 
but  England  was  blinded  by  jealous  tradesmen  and 
foolish  politicians,  hot  blood  in  the  colonies  was  all 
for  separation.  Events  swept  beyond  the  control  of 
statesmen,  and  all  were  carried  on  to  the  vortex  of 
revolution.  In  a  speech  from  the  throne  George  III 
asserted  that  "a  most  daring  resistance  to  the  laws," 
encouraged  by  the  other  colonies,  existed  in  Massachu- 
setts. Again  Camden  spoke  in  defence  of  the  colonies: 
"They  say  truly  taxation  and  representation  must  go 
together.  This  wise  people  speak  out.  They  do  not 
ask  you  to  repeal  the  laws  as  a  favor;  they  claim  it  as 
a  right."  But  Parliament  charged  the  Americans  with 
"wishing  to  become  independent"  and  as  for  any 
danger  of  revolt,  determined  "to  crush  the  monster 
in  its  birth  at  any  price  or  hazard."  They  were  to  have 
a  good  run  for  their  money. 

II 

IN  no  long  time  the  king's  men  were  marching  out  to 
Concord  and  Lexington;  and  with  the  actual  shed- 
ding of  blood,  messengers,  on  the  Sunday,  rode  out 
post-haste  to  rouse  the  country.  "War  is  begun," 
cried  they  at  church  doors.  "War,  war,"  broke  in 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  135 

upon  hymn  or  parson's  prayer;  and  from  pulpit  and 
people  rose  the  solemn  response:  "To  arms:  liberty 
or  death." 

The  radicals  were  jubilant.  Mr.  Watson,  of  Ply- 
mouth, wrote  to  his  friend  Freeman  congratulations 
upon  the  spirit  of  Sandwich,  where  Freeman  had  or- 
dered the  royal  arms  burned  by  the  common  hang- 
man. "We  are  in  high  spirits,"  wrote  Watson,  "and 
don't  think  it  is  in  the  power  of  all  Europe  to  sub- 
jugate us."  "The  Lord  of  Hosts  fights  on  the  side  of 
the  Yankees,"  averred  he.  "I  glory  in  the  name." 
Yet  Watson,  an  ardent  patriot,  in  the  course  of  a 
political  quarrel  of  later  years,  was  denounced  to 
Jefferson  as  an  old  Tory,  and  was  conveniently  re- 
moved from  office. 

But  sober  men  were  preparing  to  meet  the  cost  of 
choosing  between  a  man's  way  and  a  child's.  Cape 
Cod,  in  particular,  with  a  defenceless  coast  and  the 
probable  interruption  of  her  fisheries  and  commerce, 
faced  ruin;  but,  four-square,  she  stood  for  freedom. 
Immediately  upon  the  news  of  fighting,  two  compa- 
nies of  militia  from  Barnstable  and  Yarmouth  took 
the  road,  but  returned  on  word  that  the  royal  troops 
were  held  in  Boston.  With  them,  that  day,  piping 
them  out  with  fifes,  were  two  boys  who,  when  they 
were  sent  back,  "borrowed"  an  old  horse  grazing  by 
the  roadside  to  give  them  a  mount  homeward.  One 
boy  became  solicitor-general,  the  other  a  judge,  and 
one  day  there  chanced  to  be  a  case  of  prosecution 
for  horse-thieving  between  them.  "Davy,"  whispered 
Judge  Thacher,  leaning  from  the  bench,  "this  puts 


136  OLD  CAPE  COD 

me  in  mind  of  the  horse  we  stole  that  day  in  Barn- 
stable." 

As  the  militia  had  marched  down  the  county  road, 
an  old  farmer  halted  them.  "God  be  with  you  all,  my 
friends,"  said  he  as  one  who  would  consecrate  their 
enterprise.  "And  John,  my  son,  if  you  are  called  into 
battle,  take  care  that  you  behave  like  a  man  or  else 
let  me  never  see  your  face  again."  A  Harwich  father, 
when  he  had  heard  of  the  first  blood  spilled,  cried  out 
to  his  son:  "Eben,  you're  the  only  one  can  be  spared. 
Take  your  gun  and  go.  Fight  for  religion  and  liberty." 
And  that  boy  and  others  who  joined  on  the  instant 
were  ready  to  fight  at  Bunker  Hill. 

Yet  there  had  been  no  open  declaration  of  cutting 
loose  from  the  mother  country;  and  the  colonists 
seem  to  have  had  no  more  deliberate  intention  of 
founding  a  nation  than  had  the  Pilgrims  of  declaring 
a  new  principle  of  government.  The  second  Continen- 
tal Congress  had  recommended  a  day  of  prayer  and 
humiliation  "to  implore  the  blessings  of  Heaven  on 
our  sovereign  the  King  of  England  and  the  inter- 
position of  divine  aid  to  remove  the  grievances  of  the 
people  and  restore  harmony."  The  Cape,  a  sturdy  in- 
heritor of  the  Pilgrim  spirit,  seems  to  have  been  an 
early  advocate  of  state  rights.  In  1778  Barnstable  ap- 
pointed a  committee  to  pass  upon  the  proposed  union. 
"It  appears  to  us,"  said  Barnstable,  "that  the  power 
of  congress  is  too  great.  .  .  .  But  if  during  the  present 
arduous  conflict  with  Great  Britain  it  may  be  judged 
necessary  to  vest  such  extra  powers  in  a  continental 
congress,  we  trust  that  you  will  use  your  endeavors 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  137 

that  the  same  shall  be  but  temporary."  "The  Ply- 
mouth spirit,  which  nearly  a  century  before  had  been 
shy  of  a  union  with  Massachusetts,"  writes  Palfrey, 
"was  now  equally  averse  to  a  consolidated  govern- 
ment which  should  implicate  the  concerns  of  Massa- 
chusetts too  much  with  those  of  other  states." 

Bunker  Hill  was  fought,  and  by  July  Washington, 
as  commander-in-chief,  was  in  residence  at  Cam- 
bridge. When  he  called  for  troops  to  man  Dorchester 
Heights,  Captain  Joshua  Gray  marched  through 
Yarmouth  with  a  drummer,  calling  for  volunteers, 
and  eighty-one  men  responded.  The  night  was  spent 
in  preparation,  the  women  moulding  bullets  and 
making  cartridges,  and  by  dawn  the  little  company, 
equipped  for  war,  was  ready  to  take  the  road.  As  was 
natural,  fishermen  and  sailors,  when  they  could,  en- 
listed in  the  infant  navy.  But  the  call  for  men  pressed 
until  even  Joseph  Otis  protested:  "We  have  more 
men  in  the  land  and  sea  service  than  our  proportion," 
and  "there  is  scarcely  a  day  that  the  enemy  is  not 
within  gun-shot  of  some  part  of  our  coast.  It  is  like 
dragging  men  from  home  when  their  houses  are  on 
fire,  but  I  will  do  my  best  to  comply."  An  additional 
grievance  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  Cape  troops  seem 
to  have  been  sent  largely  to  Rhode  Island.  And  Otis 
added  that  it  was  unreasonable  "to  detach  men  from 
their  property,  wives  and  children  to  protect  the 
town  of  Providence  in  the  heart  of  the  State  of 
Rhode  Island." 

Wellfleet,  deprived  of  its  fisheries,  was  all  but 
ruined;  Provincetown,  with  its  few  inhabitants  who 


138  OLD  CAPE  COD 

had  not  fled,  was  entirely  at  the  disposal  of  the  enemy 
fleet  when  it  rode  snugly  at  anchor  in  the  harbor. 
But  even  these  towns  struggled  to  furnish  their 
quota  to  feed  the  desperate  need;  and  Mashpee 
Indians,  as  we  know,  played  their  part  so  nobly  that 
the  war's  end  saw  seventy  widows  in  the  little  com- 
munity. 

But  there  were  malcontents  enough  to  induce  pre- 
caution, and  the  Provincial  Congress  had  immediately 
provided  for  disarming  the  disaffected.  In  Barn- 
stable  there  had  been  so  many  of  little  courage  that 
in  1776  it  had  voted  against  supporting  the  Congress 
if  it  should  declare  for  independence  rather  than 
stand  out  simply  for  constitutional  liberty;  and  when 
the  draft  was  resorted  to  and  some  men  "refused  to 
march,"  their  fines  and  costs  were  paid  by  the  loyal- 
ists of  Barnstable  and  Sandwich.  In  August  Colonel 
Joseph  Otis  and  Nathaniel  Freeman  were  appointed 
to  round  up  suspects  on  the  Cape,  a  task,  we  may 
guess,  much  to  their  liking.  In  December  Major 
Dimmock,  who  had  fought  at  Ticonderoga  in  the 
French  War,  was  commanded  to  "repair  to  Nan- 
tucket  and  arrest  such  as  are  guilty  of  supplying  the 
enemy  with  provisions."  Tories  from  the  mainland 
had  fled  thither,  and  they  were  not  only  in  constant 
communication  with  British  ships,  but  manned  many 
of  the  ships  that  harried  the  coast. 

The  Cape  made  a  brave  attempt  to  keep  up  its 
trade,  and  voyages  were  made  with  the  permission  of 
the  General  Court,  "always  provided  that  the  said 
fish  &c.,  shall  not  be  cleared  out  for  any  of  his  Britan- 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  139 

nic  Majesty's  dominions."  But  affairs  were  in  des- 
perate case,  and  loyalists  plotted  with  some  show  of 
reason  that  they  had  chosen  the  winning  side.  Otis 
reports  on  October  2:  "Yesterday  the  Tories  in  the 
Sound,  about  a  league  off  Highano's  harbor,  took 
a  vessel  bound  out  of  said  harbor  to  Stonington  and 
drove  another  ashore  on  the  eastward  part  of  Fal- 
mouth.  In  short  the  refugees  have  got  a  number  of 
Vineyard  pilot-boats  (about  twenty)  and  man  them, 
and  run  into  our  shores  and  take  everything  that 
floats."  Nevertheless,  he  engages  to  get  two  small 
vessels,  if  they  will  give  him  guns,  and  "scour  the 
Sound."  On  October  12  the  head  of  "a  refugee  gang  in 
the  Sound"  sent  a  flag  of  truce  to  ask  an  exchange  of 
prisoners.  And  in  this  same  month  the  General  Court 
appropriated  money  for  four  cannon,  four  to  nine- 
pounders  —  no  formidable  armament  for  the  long 
coast-line  of  the  Cape.  But  the  Sound,  especially, 
was  the  scene  of  many  an  adventure,  and  enemy 
raids  upon  its  shores  seem  to  have  been  prompted 
largely  by  a  desire  for  fresh  meat.  In  1779  marauders 
drove  away  some  cattle  from  farms  near  Wood's 
Hole,  but  were  surprised  and  put  off  to  their  ships 
without  their  booty;  an  attack  in  force  was  planned 
against  Falmouth,  but  was  received  by  such  hot  fire 
from  the  shore  that  the  ships  were  driven  out  into  the 
Sound;  at  Wood's  Hole,  again,  they  met  with  a  like 
reception.  But  the  Sound  the  Britishers  succeeded  in 
making  their  own.  Nevertheless,  one  hundred  men, 
under  Colonel  Dimmock,  were  sent  over  for  the 
defence  of  Martha's  Vineyard;  and  among  other 


140  OLD  CAPE  COD 

exploits  Dimmock  captured  an  enemy  vessel  in  Old 
Town  Harbor,  and  took  her  crew,  under  hatches,  to 
Hyannis  whence  they  were  sent  overland  to  Boston. 
A  Federal  grain  vessel,  as  it  entered  the  Sound  one 
day,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  British;  but  its  captain 
escaped,  roused  Captain  Dimmock,  who  got  together 
twenty  men  and  three  whaleboats,  next  morning 
retook  the  prize  from  under  the  nose  of  the  British 
at  Tarpaulin  Cove,  and  made  safe  harbor  at  Martha's 
Vineyard. 

The  outer  coast  was  blockaded,  but  sometimes  a 
boat  from  Boston  or  the  fishing-grounds  would  slip 
through;  sometimes,  even,  such  a  one  would  be  al- 
lowed to  pass.  None  other  than  the  great  Nelson  — 
Lieutenant  Nelson  he  was  then,  in  command  of  His 
Majesty's  Ship  Albemarle  stationed  that  year  in  Cape 
Cod  Bay  —  released  the  Schooner  Harmony,  Ply- 
mouth owned,  to  its  captain  "on  account  of  his  good 
services,"  as  pilot,  we  may  guess.  Nor  was  the  rela- 
tion of  fleet  and  mainland  wholly  unfriendly.  These 
straight  Britishers  were  much  better  liked  by  the  peo- 
ple than  the  loyalist  refugees  that,  for  the  most  part, 
manned  the  hostile  boats  off  Wood's  Hole  and  Fal- 
mouth.  English  officers  often  landed  and  called  upon 
the  people,  or  attended  church;  one  ship's  surgeon 
even  found  opportunity  to  fall  in  love  with  a  Truro 
girl,  and  win  her,  too;  and  after  the  war,  he  resigned 
His  Majesty's  service,  married  his  sweetheart,  and 
settled  down  to  the  village  practice.  The  Reverend 
"William  Hazlett,  a  Briton,"  baptized  several  chil- 
dren at  Truro  in  1785.  Rich  thinks  he  may  have  been 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  141 

a  retired  navy  chaplain,  but  it  seems  quite  as  rea- 
sonable to  suppose  that  he  was  the  father  of  William 
Hazlitt,  the  essayist,  who,  at  about  that  time,  hap- 
pened to  be  in  Weymouth.  As  early  as  December, 
1776,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  "acquaint  his 
excellency,  General  Washington,  with  the  importance 
of  Cape  Cod  Harbor  and  consider  with  him  on  some 
method  to  deprive  the  enemy  of  the  advantage  they 
now  receive  therefrom."  But  to  the  end  of  hostilities 
the  English  fleet  continued  to  enjoy  that  advantage, 
though,  as  we  have  seen,  they  were  content  to  use 
their  ships  for  blockade  purposes  rather  than  their 
men  to  molest  the  inhabitants.  The  British  seem  to 
have  been  able  to  get  needed  supplies  by  purchase 
instead  of  bloodshed,  although  there  is  some  evidence 
of  disturbance  ashore.  Mr.  Rich  in  his  history  of 
Truro  tells  us  of  a  man  who,  one  fine  evening,  was 
enjoying  a  pipe  under  an  apple-tree  on  his  farm  near 
High  Head  when  stray  shots  from  a  man-of-war  came 
ploughing  up  the  ground  near  him.  And  once  the 
militia  captain  at  Truro,  believing  a  raid  imminent, 
used  the  clever  ruse  of  boldly  parading  his  tiny  "corn- 
stalk brigade"  in  and  out  among  the  dunes  near  Pond 
Village  for  two  hours;  and  he  frightened  off  the  Brit- 
ish, he  averred,  by  such  a  demonstration  of  strength. 
By  sea  Truro  men  did  not  get  off  so  easily.  In  1775 
David  Snow  and  his  son,  a  lad  of  fifteen,  were  fishing 
off  the  "Back  Side"  one  day  when  they  were  cap- 
tured by  an  enemy  frigate  known,  significantly,  as 
"the  shaving-mill."  They  were  taken  to  England  and 
locked  up,  with  other  Yankee  prisoners,  in  the  Old 


142  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Mill  Prison  near  Plymouth,  where  they  set  their  wits 
at  work  on  methods  of  escape.  Mr.  Snow,  one  night, 
proposed  a  dance,  when  the  fiddle  squeaked  its  loud- 
est and  the  dancers  shuffled  noisily  in  heavy  brogans, 
to  drown  the  noise  of  the  file  that  willing  hands  kept 
hard  at  work  eating  at  the  bars.  Thirty-six  men,  un- 
der cover  of  the  hilarity,  succeeded  in  slipping  out 
into  the  yard,  overpowered  the  guard,  walked  the 
fifteen  miles  to  Plymouth  Harbor,  boarded  a  scow, 
and  before  daylight  were  afloat  in  the  Channel.  There 
they  captured  a  small  boat,  and  set  sail  for  France 
where  they  sold  their  prize  for  hard  cash,  Snow  and 
his  son  receiving  as  their  share  forty  dollars.  The 
French  Government,  when  occasion  served,  set  them 
on  the  shore  of  Carolina  whence  they  finally  worked 
their  way  overland  to  Boston,  took  boat  for  Province- 
town,  and  so  home  again  to  Truro.  Seven  years  had 
been  consumed  in  the  adventure,  and  they  had  long 
been  mourned  as  dead.  The  boy  was  now  a  man,  but  a 
quick-eyed  girl  cried,  as  she  saw  him:  "If  that  is  n't 
David  Snow,  it's  his  ghost."  And  the  father  found 
his  wife  "spending  the  afternoon"  with  her  sewing,  at 
a  neighbor's.  Another  Truro  lad  was  of  the  crew  that 
rowed  Benedict  Arnold  out  to  the  Vulture,  and  when 
he  knew  the  significance  of  that  night's  story,  fearing 
that  he  might  be  implicated  in  a  charge  of  treason,  he 
fled  straight  to  Canada.  There  he  married,  and  it  was 
forty-eight  years  before  he  returned  to  visit  his  old 
home.  A  Yarmouth  man  was  one  of  the  gallant 
Andre's  guards  the  night  before  his  execution,  and 
lamented  his  unhappy  fate.  And  Watson  Freeman,  of 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  143 

Sandwich,  who  in  1754  at  the  age  of  fourteen  had 
joined  the  expedition  to  Canada,  fought  in  the  Revo- 
lution, and  was  present  at  the  taking  of  Burgoyne  in 
1777.  The  next  year  he  was  stationed  with  General 
Sullivan  on  Long  Island,  where,  being  one  of  a 
"foraging  party"  that  was  surprised  by  the  enemy 
in  the  relaxation  of  attending  a  ball,  he  received  a 
sabre-cut  on  the  forehead  that  scarred  him  for  life. 
Later,  having  joined  an  uncle  who  commanded  a 
privateer,  he  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  enemy, 
wounded  in  an  encounter  between  them  and  a  French 
boat,  invalided  to  a  hospital  at  Portsmouth,  England, 
and  discharged  as  incurable.  Wandering  about  the 
country,  he  came  upon  an  old  herb-woman  who 
proved  wiser  than  the  doctors,  and  he  lived  to  amass 
a  fortune  in  Boston  as  an  "importer  of  English  goods 
and  concerned  also  in  navigation." 

Nor  did  the  British  cruisers  have  things  all  their 
own  way.  Swift-sailing  privateers  were  fitted  out  — 
Cape  Cod  sailors  we  may  be  sure  eager  for  such 
service  —  and  in  the  two  years  between  1776  and 
1778  nearly  eight  hundred  prizes  had  been  captured; 
while  during  the  war  nearly  two  hundred  thousand 
tons  of  British  shipping  were  taken  by  privateers  that 
were  manned  largely  by  fishermen. 

Certainly,  whether  of  men  high  in  council  or  of  the 
rank  and  file,  Cape  Cod  furnished  her  due  share  in  the 
conflict:  unnamed  sailors  and  soldiers,  brave  men  all; 
Nathaniel  Freeman,  Joseph  Otis,  Dimmock;  and, 
greater  than  all,  the  James  Otises,  father  and  son. 
From  the  evacuation  of  Boston  in  1776  to  1780  when 


144  OLD  CAPE  COD 

the  new  government  was  established,  Massachusetts 
affairs  were  in  the  hands  of  the  Council  that  was 
elected  annually  as  provided  by  the  charter  of  William 
and  Mary;  of  this  Council  Colonel  James  Otis,  as 
senior  member,  was  presiding  officer  and  virtually 
the  Governor  of  the  Province.  James,  the  patriot, 
never  entirely  recovered  from  the  effects  of  a  das- 
tardly assault  in  1769,  and  in  1783  he  was  killed  by  a 
stroke  of  lightning  as  he  stood  in  his  doorway  at 
Andover.  The  last  years  of  his  life  were  dark  with 
tragedy.  His  daughter,  to  his  great  grief,  had  mar- 
ried an  English  officer,  who  was  wounded  at  Bunker 
Hill;  his  son,  James,  third  of  the  name,  had  enlisted 
as  a  midshipman  and  died,  at  twenty-one,  on  the 
notorious  British  prison-ship  Jersey.  But  the  patriot 
had  accomplished  his  great  work.  And  of  him  John 
Adams  well  said:  "I  have  been  young  and  now  am 
old,  and  I  solemnly  say  I  have  never  known  a  man 
whose  love  of  country  was  more  ardent  and  sincere  — 
never  one  who  suffered  so  much  —  never  one  whose 
services  for  any  ten  years  of  his  life  were  so  important 
and  essential  to  the  cause  of  his  country  as  those  of 
Mr.  Otis  from  1760  to  1770." 

Ill 

AFFAIRS  moved  on  toward  peace,  and  on  April  19, 
just  eight  years  after  Lord  Percy  had  set  out  on  his 
expedition  to  Concord  and  Lexington,  Washington 
proclaimed  an  armistice.  But  joy  in  the  victory  was 
tempered  for  thoughtful  men:  if  it  had  cost  England 
a  hundred  million  pounds  and  fifty  thousand  men  to 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  145 

lose  her  colonies,  the  relative  price  they  paid  for 
independence  was  far  greater.  The  currency  was 
practically  worthless,  the  soldiers  and  their  families 
were  destitute,  the  salaries  of  public  officers  and 
clergy  but  a  pittance.  Each  State  wanted  to  secure  its 
revenue  to  its  own  use,  which  ensured  conflict  with 
the  Federal  Government;  the  individual,  in  his  meagre 
circumstances,  grudged  any  contribution  to  such  reve- 
nue, which  ensured  conflict  between  the  State  and  its 
citizens.  That  the  general  unrest  was  present  in  Barn- 
stable  County  is  evident  from  a  proclamation  of  the 
Government  calling  upon  "the  good  people  of  said 
county  for  their  aid  and  assistance"  in  handling  a 
rumored  attempt  to  "obstruct  the  sitting  of  the 
Court  at  Barnstable."  But  in  the  main  the  people 
who  had  broken  the  might  of  Britain  now,  war  ended, 
applied  themselves  with  like  energy  to  recovering 
from  its  effects.  And  in  spite  of  war  and  threatened 
ruin  the  Cape  had  continued  its  healthy  growth. 

In  1793  Dennis,  which  had  long  functioned  as  a 
separate  town,  was  incorporated;  its  name  derived 
from  that  of  the  first  minister  of  the  East  Precinct  of 
Yarmouth,  the  Reverend  Josiah  Dennis.  In  1797 
Orleans  was  set  off  from  Eastham;  and  in  1803  the 
North  Parish  of  Harwich,  the  older  in  point  of  settle- 
ment, became  Brewster.  It  was  then  that  argument 
for  and  against  division  hit  upon  the  extraordinary 
compromise  that  irreconcilables  of  the  North  Parish, 
"together  with  such  widows  as  live  therein  and  re- 
quest it,  have  liberty  to  remain,  with  their  families 
and  estates,  to  the  town  of  Harwich."  No  less  than 


146  OLD  CAPE  COD 

sixty-five  persons,  including  two  widows,  stiff-necked 
old  conservatives  we  may  guess,  filed  such  request 
with  the  town  clerk  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Com- 
monwealth. Here  was  an  arrangement  well  calculated 
to  nourish  old  animosities,  which,  in  the  natural 
course  of  things,  had  to  be  abandoned.  Nor  was  the 
new  town  slow  in  making  her  voice  heard :  in  1810  she 
was  remonstrating  against  the  appointment  of  a  cer- 
tain postmaster,  "he  being  a  foreigner  and  in  the  opin- 
ion of  the  inhabitants  an  alien."  A  little  later  she  was 
petitioning  "the  Postmaster  General,  praying  him  to 
fix  the  day  of  the  week  and  the  hour  of  the  day  in 
which  the  post-rider  shall  arrive  at  Brewster  on  his 
way  down  the  Cape,  and  also  on  his  return,  and  that 
the  Committee  of  Safety  attend  to  this  matter."  And 
she  was  one  of  the  loudest  to  protest  against  the  Em- 
bargo Act  of  1807. 

America  had  been  making  no  small  profit  during 
the  Napoleonic  wars  that  wrecked  Europe.  By  wise 
federal  legislation  trade  and  credit  gradually  righted, 
and  the  neutrality  of  the  United  States  permitted 
lucrative  intercourse  with  all  the  belligerents.  But 
American  traders  took  their  risks,  and  by  no  means 
came  off  scatheless:  England  and  France  had  estab- 
lished mutual  blockades;  their  ships  preyed  upon  the 
Yankee  blockade-runners,  their  captains  impressed 
captured  American  seamen.  England  by  the  British 
Orders  in  Council,  France  by  the  Berlin  and  Milan 
decrees,  all  but  put  an  end  to  our  commerce,  and  the 
coup  dc  grace  threatened  when,  in  1807,  the  United 
States  hoped  to  save  her  ships  by  declaring  an  em- 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  147 

bargo  on  all  outgoing  shipping.  As  between  England 
and  America,  there  were  accusations  and  counter- 
accusations  that  the  other  country  was  not  carrying 
out  the  provisions  of  their  peace  treaty,  nor  had  the 
old  Tory  and  Whig  animosities  of  the  Revolution 
had  time  to  die;  and  the  whole  exasperating  state 
of  affairs  worked  out  to  a  formal  declaration  of  war 
against  England  in  1812. 

Brewster,  in  solemn  town-meeting  assembled,  had 
inveighed  thus  against  the  Embargo  Act:  "That 
imperious  necessity  calls  upon  us  loudly  to  remon- 
strate" against  the  embargo  laws  "as  unjust  in  their 
nature,  unequal  in  their  operation,  a  cruel  infringe- 
ment of  our  most  precious  rights."  In  impassioned 
words  she  memorialized  the  General  Court:  "Whilst 
the  mouth  of  labor  is  forbidden  to  eat,  the  language 
of  complaint  is  natural.  With  ruin  at  our  doors,  and 
poverty  staring  us  in  the  face,  we  beseech,  conjure 
and  implore  your  honorable  body  to  obtain  a  redress 
of  the  oppressive  grievances  under  which  we  suffer." 
And  Brewster,  having  thus  recorded  her  protest,  felt 
herself  free  to  join  in  the  sport  of  evading  the  new 
law.  It  was  a  boat  owned  there,  captured  by  a  reve- 
nue cutter  and  taken  into  Provincetown,  that  was  re- 
captured by  the  owners  who  had  hurriedly  fitted  up  a 
packet  as  a  man-of-war,  and  cleared  off  for  her  port  of 
Surinam,  while  the  United  States  Marshal  whistled 
for  any  satisfaction  he  could  get. 

A  more  complicated  adventure  befell  two  Cape 
men,  Mayo  and  Hill,  who  were  of  the  crew  of  Captain 
Paine,  of  Truro.  In  1811  they  cleared  for  Mediter- 


148  OLD  CAPE  COD  . 

ranean  ports  with  a  cargo  of  fish,  but  off  the  coast  of 
Spain  they  were  boarded  and  searched  by  a  French 
corvette,  and  for  some  reason  Mayo  and  Hill  were 
taken  prisoner  and  landed  in  Lisbon.  There  they  were 
attached  to  a  French  force  that  was  to  convoy  a  rich 
pay  train  through  the  enemy  country,  the  most  dan- 
gerous point  of  which  was  a  deep  defile  in  the  moun- 
tains some  three  miles  in  length.  There  a  murderous 
fire  was  opened  upon  them  from  the  overhanging 
cliffs,  every  officer  and  all  but  a  handful  of  men  killed, 
and  the  rest  marched  off  to  a  Spanish  prison.  And 
among  the  prisoners  were  Mayo  and  Hill  who  had 
come  through  the  engagement  without  a  scratch.  The 
Frenchmen  were  inclined  to  make  game  of  their 
Yankee  fellow-captives,  and  something  of  a  race  war 
developed.  But  Mayo  "was,  like  Miles  Standish, 
small  of  stature  but  soon  red-hot."  He  whipped 
several  "Frenchies,"  and  offered  to  fight  the  lot,  an 
invitation,  courteously  declined,  which  left  him  mas- 
ter of  the  field.  Whether  by  intrigue  or  not,  Hill  was 
condemned  as  a  spy  and  marched  out  to  be  shot  when, 
in  the  approved  style  of  romance,  a  horseman  in  the 
nick  of  time  dashed  up  with  a  reprieve;  and  Hill  had 
earned  his  title  to  "scape-gallows."  In  a  few  months 
the  two  Cape  men  managed  somehow  to  make  their 
way  to  Flanders,  and,  after  years  crammed  with  ad- 
venture, reached  home.  "Mr.  Mayo,"  says  Rich  who 
tells  the  story,  "died  in  good  old  age,  in  the  peace  of 
Christ,  having  raised  a  large  family  of  enterprising 
boys.  Like  the  patriarch,  he  saw  his  children's  chil- 
dren to  the  fourth  generation." 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  149 

Captain  Isaiah  Crowell,  of  Yarmouth,  had  suc- 
cessfully run  the  blockade  at  Marseilles  after  the 
French  decrees  were  in  force;  and  in  1812,  knowing 
that  a  strict  embargo  of  ninety  days,  preliminary  to 
war,  was  imminent,  he  loaded  hastily  at  Boston  with 
a  cargo  for  Lisbon,  cleared  for  Eastport,  where  he 
gave  the  first  news  of  the  embargo,  and  cleared  there 
for  Lisbon.  War  having  been  declared,  on  his  return  he 
was  captured  by  an  English  cruiser,  taken  into  Saint 
John's  where  his  ship  was  condemned,  and  he  was 
being  returned  to  the  United  States  on  the  British 
sloop-of-war  Alert  when  it  was  captured  by  the  Yan- 
kee Essex.  But  if  Crowell  lost  in  this  venture,  he  was 
to  gain  bv  his  skill  and  daring  in  many  another;  and  he 
retired  from  sea  with  a  comfortable  fortune,  to  live 
out  many  humdrum  years  ashore  as  a  bank  president 
and  legislator. 

When  it  came  to  this  second  war  with  England, 
although  the  United  States  now  proved  herself  a  na- 
tion, there  was  no  unanimity  of  opinion  among  the  peo- 
ple ;  and  as  a  fact  the  Americans  had  been  nearly  as  in- 
dignant with  their  own  government  for  its  embargoes 
as  with  England  and  France  for  their  unjust  decrees 
and  their  seizure  of  American  seamen  and  ships. 
Politics  seethed  hot  in  New  England  as  elsewhere,  and 
men  for  or  against  the  war  wrangled  in  high  place  and 
low.  The  majority  on  the  Cape  were  anti-war.  Chat- 
ham, remembering  old  wars  and  fresh  wrongs,  ad- 
dressed the  President  expressing  "the  abhorrence  of 
the  people  to  any  alliance  with  France."  Other  towns 
were,  at  best,  lukewarm.  Yarmouth  never  ceased  to 


150  OLD  CAPE  COD 

be  bitterly  anti-war,  and  many  who  had  fought 
devotedly  in  the  Revolution  refused  to  fight  now,  or 
only  so  far  as  it  might  be  necessary  to  prevent  the 
invasion  of  their  soil.  Yet  the  county  was  strongly 
Federalist,  and  a  powerful  minority  were  able  to  push 
through  a  fine  resolution:  "It  becomes  us,  in  imita- 
tion of  the  patriots  of  the  Revolution,  to  unite  in  the 
common  cause  of  the  country,  patiently  bearing  every 
evil,  and  cheerfully  submitting  to  those  privations 
which  are  necessarily  incident  to  a  state  of  war.  We 
consider  the  war  in  which  we  are  engaged  as  just, 
necessary  and  unavoidable,  and  we  will  support  the 
same  with  our  lives  and  fortunes." 

The  fine  old  breed  of  American  seamen  flocked  into 
the  navy,  and  success  on  the  ocean  did  much  to  offset 
reverses  on  land.  During  the  first  seven  months  of  the 
war,  five  hundred  British  merchantmen  were  taken; 
and  the  Essex,  the  Constitution,  the  Wasp  had  made 
their  kill  of  English  men-of-war.  In  1814  Great  Brit- 
ain, relieved  from  the  pressure  of  continental  wars, 
was  ready  to  turn  her  full  attention  to  America, 
Washington  was  burned,  and  again  a  British  fleet 
rendezvoused  in  Provincetown  Harbor  and  harried 
the  coast  of  the  Cape.  A  landing  party  at  Wood's  Hole 
was  driven  off  by  the  militia;  Falmouth,  after  due 
notice  to  remove  non-combatants,  was  bombarded, 
with  considerable  loss  to  buildings  and  salt-works, 
but  none  to  life.  The  contention  had  been  that  Fal- 
mouth had  been  annoying  British  ships  with  her 
cannon  which  Captain  Weston  Jenkins,  the  Yankee 
commander,  had  thereupon  dared  the  British  to  come 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  151 

and  get.  The  determined  attitude  of  his  militia  seems 
to  have  discouraged  any  landing  and  the  British  with- 
drew without  their  cannon.  Several  months  later 
Falmouth  was  to  have  her  revenge.  Captain  Jenkins, 
with  thirty-two  volunteers,  set  sail  in  the  sloop  Two 
Friends  for  Tarpaulin  Cove,  Wood's  Hole,  where 
H.M.S.  Retaliation  lay  at  anchor.  Brought  to  by  a 
shot  from  the  ship,  Jenkins  concealed  all  but  two  or 
three  of  his  men  to  encourage  a  boarding  party  of  the 
enemy.  This  it  was  easy  to  overcome;  whereupon  he 
trained  his  guns  upon  the  ship,  overcame  all  resist- 
ance, and  returned  in  triumph  to  Falmouth  with 
the  Retaliation,  its  crew  of  twelve  men,  its  plunder, 
and  two  Yankee  prisoners. 

Meantime  Yankee  merchantmen  were  running  the 
blockade  with  even  more  zest  than  they  had  enjoyed 
in  evading  their  own  embargo.  At  Hyannis,  the  Kutu- 
zoff,  with  a  full  cargo  of  cotton  and  rice,  came  bowl- 
ing into  port  followed  close  by  a  British  privateer- 
schooner.  The  cargo  safe  landed,  one  hundred  militia 
gathered  to  repel  possible  invasion  and  trained  a  four- 
pounder  on  the  enemy  who,  after  an  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  destroy  a  beached  British  prize,  prudently 
withdrew.  At  Hyannis,  again  the  Yankee  landed  "up- 
wards of  a  hundred  packages  of  dry  goods";  other 
boats,  without  benefit  of  revenue  officers,  landed 
stores  of  spirits  and  wine  and  other  products  from 
the  South.  Coasting  vessels  tried  to  keep  up  a  des- 
ultory trade  with  Boston,  though  Boston  was  so 
thoroughly  blockaded  it  was  easier  to  make  the  run 
to  New  York.  Fleets  of  whaleboats  followed  the  old 


152  OLD  CAPE  COD 

route  that  Bradford  and  De  Rasieres  had  used,  by 
way  of  Sandwich  and  Manomet,  and  so,  on,  hugging 
the  shores  of  southern  New  England  to  their  destina- 
tion. Two  Eastham  captains,  safely  landing  a  whale- 
boat  cargo  of  rye  at  Boston,  were  encouraged  by 
success  to  exchange  for  a  larger  boat  and  cargo  for  the 
homeward  voyage.  At  the  Gurnet,  however,  they 
were  brought  to  by  a  "pink-stern"  schooner  that  was 
masquerading  as  a  fisherman,  but  proved  to  belong 
to  H.M.S.  Spencer.  One  captain  was  sent  to  Boston 
for  three  hundred  dollars  ransom  of  their  boat;  the 
other,  Mayo,  was  retained  aboard  the  prize  as  pilot, 
and  orders  given  him  to  cruise  about  the  bay.  In  a 
stiff  gale  Mayo  counselled  taking  shelter  in  the  lee  of 
Billingsgate  Point,  forthwith  grounded  the  schooner 
on  the  Eastham  flats,  quieted  criticism  with  assurance 
that  they  would  soon  be  floating  over  the  bar  into  the 
safety  of  inner  waters,  and  advised  the  officers  to  go 
below  that  their  number  might  not  excite  suspicion 
on  shore.  He  had  previously  secured  two  pistols  for 
himself  and  provided  for  the  helplessness  of  the  crew 
by  giving  them  a  gimlet  to  tap  a  barrel  of  rum.  He 
then  threw  all  available  firearms  overboard,  and, 
when  the  officers  presented  themselves  in  alarm  as  the 
boat  canted  with  the  receding  tide,  held  them  off  with 
his  pistols,  coolly  walked  ashore  over  the  sands,  and 
roused  the  militia  who  took  boat  and  crew  as  prize. 
The  crew,  later,  was  allowed  to  escape  to  their  frigate 
and  the  boat  was  awarded  to  Captain  Mayo,  who  re- 
leased it  to  its  owners  for  two  hundred  dollars.  But 
the  town  was  not  to  come  off  so  easily  in  the  affair:  for 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  153 

the  British  commander,  in  reprisal  for  the  indignity 
to  his  men,  threatened  to  destroy  boats,  buildings, 
and  salt-works,  if  twelve  hundred  dollars  were  not 
forthcoming  as  the  price  of  immunity  and  as  recom- 
pense for  the  prisoners'  baggage.  The  town  fathers 
decided  to  pay  the  sum,  and  made  no  such  bad  bar- 
gain as  their  receipt  promised  to  hold  Eastham 
scatheless  for  the  duration  of  the  war. 

Brewster,  prudently,  chose  a  like  alternative,  al- 
though here  the  price  was  raised  to  four  thousand 
dollars.  An  emergency  town  meeting  was  held  in  the 
church  to  consider  the  question,  scouts  sent  out  to 
neighboring  towns  to  sound  opinion  as  to  the  likeli- 
hood of  help  in  resisting  the  demand,  the  artillery 
commander  directed  to  "engage  horses  to  be  in  readi- 
ness for  the  ordnance ;  and  there  being  a  deficiency  in 
that  branch  of  the  service  a  committee  should  ascer- 
tain how  many  exempts  from  forty-five  to  sixty  in 
each  school  district  could  be  brought  to  enlist  therein." 
The  scouts  returning  with  the  disheartening  news 
"that  the  town  of  Brewster  can  make  no  dependence 
on  any  of  our  neighbors  for  assistance  in  our  alarming 
and  distressed  situation,"  it  was  decided  to  employ 
arbiters  rather  than  ordnance,  and  that  "the  com- 
mittee of  safety  who  went  on  board  his  B.M.  Spencer, 
go  again  this  night  and  make  the  best  terms  possible 
with  Com.  Ragget."  Ragget  held  to  his  demand,  and 
the  committee,  though  they  "used  their  best  en- 
deavors," "could  not  obtain  the  abatement  of  a  dol- 
lar," the  sum  to  be  paid  in  specie  in  two  weeks'  time. 
The  tribute  money  was  borrowed,  and  to  reimburse 


154  OLD  CAPE  COD 

the  lenders  a  tax  levied  on  "salt-works,  buildings  of 
every  description,  and  vessels  owned  in  this  town  of 
every  description  frequenting,  or  lying  on,  the  shore." 
It  is  interesting  that  the  sixty-five  irreconcilable  alien 
residents  who  had  adhered  to  the  jurisdiction  of  Har- 
wich managed  to  evade  their  share  of  the  tax,  al- 
though their  property  was  thus  secured  from  the 
British  guns.  The  faithful  of  Brewster  bore  the  bur- 
den none  too  willingly  one  may  guess:  three  years 
later  they  petitioned  the  legislature  to  refund  the  sum 
paid  "Rd.  Ragget,  Esq.  as  a  contribution,"  but  re- 
ceived no  redress.  And  when,  as  a  crowning  wrong, 
they  were  upbraided  by  fireside  patriots  for  paying 
tribute  to  the  enemy,  they  had  the  valid  excuse  that 
since  Government  and  neighbors  had  left  them  to 
fend  for  themselves,  they  were  justified  in  saving  the 
town. 

Orleans,  of  bolder  kidney,  it  would  seem,  rejected  a 
like  demand,  and  repulsed  several  landing  parties.  It 
may  be  said  that  the  village  of  Orleans  lay  inland  at 
a  safer  distance  from  ship's  guns.  In  December  the 
British  frigate  Newcastle  ran  ashore  near  Orleans, 
and,  floated  with  some  difficulty,  sent  a  four-oared 
barge  into  Rock  Harbor  and  captured  therein  a 
schooner  and  three  sloops,  two  of  which,  being 
aground,  were  fired  but  were  saved  by  the  na- 
tives. Prize  crews  were  put  aboard  the  other  sloop 
and  the  schooner,  and  anchor  weighed  for  Province- 
town.  But  the  schooner,  under  command  of  a  Yankee 
pilot  who  emulated  the  example  of  Captain  Mayo, 
of  Eastham,  ran  her  ashore  on  the  Yarmouth  flats, 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  155 

and  the  crew  were  sent  prisoners  to  Salem.  Mean- 
time the  Orleans  militia  had  driven  off  the  landing 
force;  and  sixty  years  later  the  surviving  heroes  or 
their  widows  received  a  bounty  of  one  hundred  and 
sixty  acres  of  public  land  for  their  prowess  at  "the 
battle  of  Orleans."  Boat  after  boat  in  the  bay  was 
taken  by  the  British,  and  usually  released  after  the 
captors  had  replenished  their  stores  from  the  car- 
goes. The  Two  Friends  of  Provincetown,  taken  off 
Gloucester,  was  sent  to  Nova  Scotia,  as,  also,  was 
the  Victory  of  Yarmouth.  But  the  master  of  the  Vic- 
tory saved  his  captor,  the  Leander,  from  being 
wrecked  on  some  dangerous  shoals  and  received  as 
reward  an  order  on  the  Governor  of  Halifax  for  his 
schooner  and  a  safe-conduct  home  for  himself  and 
his  crew. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  account,  many  Cape  Cod 
captains  made  successful  ventures  in  privateering. 
Captain  Reuben  Rich,  of  Wellfleet,  captured  an  East 
Indiaman  on  the  first  day  out,  and  cleared  seventeen 
thousand  dollars  for  his  share  in  the  transaction;  men 
from  Brewster,  Truro,  Eastham  likewise  made  satis- 
factory cruises  under  letters  of  marque.  Cape  Cod 
fishermen  served  in  these  privateers  and  in  the  navy, 
and  sometimes  were  captured,  and  many  a  man  from 
Cape  Cod  was  familiar  with  the  interior  of  Dartmoor 
Prison.  The  last  survivor  of  them,  at  Truro,  lived  well 
into  the  opening  of  a  new  era,  and  died  in  1878  at  the 
ripe  age  of  ninety.  Two  Harwich  men  were  in  the 
fight  between  the  Constitution  and  Guerriere,  and  no 
doubt  could  sing  with  gusto: 


156  OLD  CAPE  COD 

"You  thought  our  frigates  were  but  few, 

And  Yankees  could  not  fight, 
Until  bold  Hull  the  Guerriere  took, 
And  banished  her  from  sight. 

Chorus: 

"Ye  parliaments  of  England,  ye  Lords  and  Commons  too, 
Consider  well  what  you're  about  and  what  you  mean  to  do; 
You  are  now  at  war  with  Yankee  boys,  and  soon  you  '11  rue  the 

day 
You  roused  the  sons  of  Liberty  in  North  America." 

The  "sons  of  Liberty,"  although  consecrated  by  no 
such  spirit  as  won  the  war  for  independence,  had  con- 
siderable ground  for  exultation. 

But  British  ships  dominated  Cape  Cod  Bay,  and 
the  flagship,  anchored  off  Truro,  sometimes  used  the 
old  mill  on  Mill  Hill  for  a  target.  On  such  occasions, 
says  Rich,  the  inhabitants  preferred  the  eastern  side 
of  the  hill.  Again  British  seamen  used  Provincetown 
as  their  own,  and,  individually,  established  friendly 
relations  ashore;  officers  often  landed  to  buy  fresh 
provisions  for  which  they  paid  hard  British  gold  to 
the  considerable  profit  of  the  natives;  and  although 
some  timid  farmers  kept  their  cattle  in  the  woods, 
there  is  no  record  of  any  looting.  Mr.  Rich  remem- 
bers an  old  lady  who  confessed  the  girls  liked  to 
watch  the  British  barges  come  in;  another  recalls 
that  on  the  way  from  school  one  day  with  a  bevy  of 
her  mates,  they  encountered  a  squad  of  the  British, 
and  making  as  if  to  turn  aside,  were  accosted  gallantly 
by  the  officer.  "Don't  leave  the  road,  ladies,"  cried 
he,  touching  his  cap,  "we  won't  harm  you."  It  is 


THE  ENGLISH  WARS  157 

probable  that  more  than  once  youth  and  bright  eyes 
managed  some  amelioration  of  the  rigors  of  war. 

It  was  a  futile  war,  growing  out  of  old  animosities 
at  home  and  the  great  Napoleonic  conflicts  overseas, 
and  all  were  ready  for  peace  when  it  came  about 
through  the  Treaty  of  Ghent  in  December,  1814.  Yet 
the  war  had  served  Americans  well  by  clearing  ob- 
stacles in  the  way  of  a  further  development  of  trade,, 
which  again  leaped  forward  with  the  building  of  the 
clipper  ships  that  beat  the  lumbering  East  Indiamen 
on  the  oceans  of  the  world,  and  were  ready  for  the 
swift  voyages  around  the  Horn  to  the  gold-fields  of 
the  Pacific.  For  America  now  had  a  navy:  in  the 
years  between  the  Revolution  and  the  Embargo  War, 
our  growing  trade,  unprotected  as  it  was  then,  had 
been  at  the  mercy  not  only  of  the  European  belliger- 
ents, but  of  the  Mediterranean  corsairs  and  pirates. 
For  many  years  regular  tribute  was  paid  the  Barbary 
States  to  buy  exemption  from  attack;  and  even  so  it 
was  no  unusual  thing  for  offerings  to  be  asked  of  a 
Sunday  in  some  Cape  Cod  meeting-house  to  defray 
the  ransom  of  a  sailor  captured  by  the  Barbary  pi- 
rates. It  was  not  until  after  the  War  of  1812  that  the 
nuisance  was  stopped  by  sending  a  squadron  to  the 
Mediterranean  under  Decatur,  when  the  Dey  of 
Algiers  was  compelled  to  a  treaty  forbidding  his  pro- 
fitable exaction  of  tribute,  and  Tunis  and  Tripoli 
promised  to  hold  our  commerce  exempt  from  the  de- 
predations of  the  corsairs. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING 
I 

DURING  the  political  upheaval  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  interest  in  theology  was  by  no  means  quies- 
cent, and  in  the  seventeen-forties  the  colonies  were 
roused  by  the  religious  agitation  known  as  the  Great 
Awakening.  Puritans  had  fought  with  equal  rancor 
any  dissenter  from  their  doctrine,  were  he  Antinomian 
or  Anabaptist,  Anglican,  Papist,  Gortonist,  or  Quaker; 
the  Pilgrim  Independents  had  soon  lost  something  of 
their  liberalism ;  but  whatever  the  particular  slant  of 
opinion,  men  of  the  later  generations  in  the  vigorous 
young  country  were  bound  to  think  for  themselves. 
Jonathan  Edwards  crystallized  the  tenets  of  the  old 
faith  into  a  flawless  theology;  Chauncy  led  the  lib- 
erals from  doctrines  dealing  with  eternal  damnation 
to  something  like  Universalism ;  but  George  Whitefield, 
brushing  aside  contentions  involving  the  supremacy 
of  the  intellect,  made  that  direct  appeal  to  the  heart 
for  which  men  hungered.  He  infused  fresh  warmth 
into  Calvinism  and  his  adherents  were  known  as  the 
"New  Lights,"  his  opponents  the  "Old  Lights." 
Pulpit,  press,  and  people  were  stirred  to  frenzied  in- 
terest. Whitefield,  preaching  up  and  down  the  country 
with  a  flame  of  eloquence  and  a  sympathetic  under- 
standing of  the  poor  and  distressed  that  drew  men  to 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING          159 

him  by  the  thousand,  was  denounced  as  an  "itinerant 
scourge."  As  early  as  1745,  ten  of  the  Cape  clergy  ar- 
raigned the  new  method  of  salvation  in  terms  that  be- 
tray some  anxiety.  "It  tends  to  destroy  the  usefulness 
of  ministers  among  their  people,  in  places  where  the 
gospel  is  settled  and  faithfully  preached  in  its  purity," 
they  complain.  "That  it  promotes  strife  and  conten- 
tion, a  censorious  and  uncharitable  spirit  and  those 
numerous  schisms  and  separations  which  have  al- 
ready destroyed  the  peace  and  unity,  and  at  this  time 
threaten  the  subversion  of  many  churches." 

But  it  was  not  until  1794  that  the  first  Methodist 
meeting-house  on  the  Cape,  and  the  second  in  the 
country,  was  built  at  Truro.  Provincetown  had  made 
the  first  move  toward  building,  perhaps  roused  there- 
to by  the  eloquence  of  one  Captain  William  Hum- 
bert, who,  "while  lying  windbound  in  Provincetown 
Harbor,"  had  improved  the  occasion  to  exhort  the 
towns-people  for  the  good  of  their  souls.  But  at 
Provincetown  there  was  much  opposition  to  the  New 
Lights,  and  when  the  faithful,  under  cover  of  night, 
had  landed  timber  for  the  proposed  edifice,  their 
enemies  promptly  reduced  it  to  kindling  wood,  and 
tarred  and  feathered  the  minister  in  effigy.  Jesse 
Lee,  a  visiting  elder,  writes  temperately  enough  of 
the  scene:  "I  felt  astonished  at  the  conduct  of  the 
people,  considering  that  we  live  in  a  free  country. 
However,  I  expect  this  will  be  for  the  good  of  the  little 
society."  A  prophecy  to  be  justified:  nothing  daunted, 
the  New  Lights,  in  1795,  built  their  church.  "Keeping 
guard  at  night  and  keeping  their  weapons  by  them 


160  OLD  CAPE  COD 

while  at  work,  in  about  four  months  they  erected  a 
chapel  with  songs  of  praise."  And  in  their  songs  of 
praise  it  is  remembered  that  John  Mayo,  the  Truro 
man  of  hairbreadth  escapes  in  the  Peninsula  War, 
once  joined  to  his  advantage.  With  a  companion  he 
had  gone  to  Provincetown  with  a  cargo  of  clam-bait; 
and  night-bound  there,  they  were  unable  to  find 
lodging  among  the  villagers.  To  occupy  the  evening 
hours  before  camping  out  in  their  boat,  they  went 
to  prayer-meeting  where  they  stimulated  the  singing 
with  their  full  rich  voices  to  the  great  pleasure  of  the 
worshippers.  With  the  result,  Rich  tells  us,  that  in- 
stead of  sleeping  in  the  open,  they  were  "abundantly 
lodged  and  breakfasted,  and  in  the  morning  sold  the 
balance  of  their  clams  to  a  good  market." 

In  the  meantime  Truro,  with  the  cooperation  of 
Wellfleet,  Provincetown,  and  Eastham,  and  a  money 
outlay  of  only  eight  dollars  for  nails,  had  built  the 
first  church.  On  a  Sunday  people  from  twelve  miles 
north  or  south  flocked  to  meeting,  and  those  more 
favorably  situated  were  happy  in  being  able  to  at- 
tend three  services  a  day.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Snell- 
ing,  who  fostered  the  faith  there  for  twenty  years, 
avers  that  "the  congregations  were  large  and  the 
Word  ran  and  was  glorified."  And  Rich  has  pre- 
served for  us  a  picture  or  two  of  the  local  exhorters. 
Dodge,  who  "could  make  more  noise  in  the  pulpit 
with  less  religion,  and  spoil  more  Bibles  than  any  man 
I  ever  saw";  another,  of  gentler  spirit,  "in  a  tender, 
trembling,  but  earnest  voice,  loved  to  tell  what  re- 
ligion had  done  for  him  and  persuade  others  to  ac- 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING          161 

cept  Christ  as  their  Lord  and  Saviour."  And  another 
would  "force  home  his  rugged  reasoning,  and  vivid 
personal  experience,  with  an  energy  and  eloquence 
that  swept  like  a  torrent.  Sometimes  when  wrought 
upon  with  his  theme,  his  heart  on  fire,  his  face  aglow, 
his  tall  form  bent,  his  long  arm  outstretched,  his 
impetuous  utterance  fairly  breaking  through  his 
pent-up  prison-house,  the  Spirit  rested  like  cloven 
tongues  upon  the  audience."  And  there  was  fine  old 
Stephen  Collins  whose  "soul  basked  in  the  sunshine 
of  all  the  privileges  of  God's  people.  He  loved  the 
songs  of  Zion,  Lenox  was  his  favorite:  he  was  the 
author  of  Give  Lenox  a  pull.  His  exhortations  were 
full  of  fire,  his  pungent  logic  carried  conviction  to  the 
mind." 

In  1808  Barnstable,  as  had  Provincetown,  threat- 
ened a  Methodist  minister  with  mob  violence.  The 
old  Pilgrim  faith  had  tolerated  Quakers;  Baptists 
were  established  at  Harwich  in  1756  and  at  Barns- 
table  in  1771 ;  but  Methodists  were  held  as  the  great 
seceders,  and  it  took  them  fifty  years  to  soften  the 
asperity  of  the  prejudice  against  them.  The  new  cen- 
tury was  to  end  the  old  homogeneous  theocracy 
and  with  it  the  paramount  influence  of  the  clergy. 
Quaker,  Congregationalist,  Baptist,  and  Methodist 
worshipped  according  to  individual  temperament, 
and  participated  in  all  civil  rights;  " Come-outers " 
practised  ritual  despised  of  aristocrats;  camp-meeting 
grounds,  where  the  Methodists  improved  a  summer 
vacation  for  the  soul's  profit,  were  established  in  the 
groves  of  Eastham  and  then  at  Yarmouth,  when 


162  OLD  CAPE  COD 

"men  of  power  and  deep  religious  experience,"  says 
Mr.  Rich,  "made  these  green  arches  tremble  with 
their  eloquence."  A  local  bard  sings,  with  some 
particularity: 

"We  saw  great  gatherings  in  a  grove, 

A  grove  near  Pamet  Bay, 
Where  thousands  heard  the  preached  word, 
And  dozens  knelt  to  pray." 

In  1821,  "a  Pentecostal  year,"  during  the  Great 
Revival  in  Wellfleet  and  Truro,  over  four  hundred 
"professed  religion,"  and  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
six  joined  the  Methodist  church. 

As  early  as  1813  began  the  Unitarian  schism  in  the 
orthodox  Congregational  churches.  A  split  in  the 
First  Parish  of  Sandwich  served  as  a  test  case  in  the 
division  of  "temporalities,"  when  the  schismatics, 
being  in  the  majority,  were  awarded  the  church  estate 
and  the  Old  Lights,  with  the  parson,  withdrew  to 
form  a  new  parish.  No  doubt  the  people  entered  upon 
these  new  discussions  with  something  of  the  gusto 
they  had  displayed  in  past  controversies. 

And  in  the  meantime  the  nation  was  laying  the 
solid  foundations  of  its  future  prosperity;  the  Cape, 
with  its  shipping,  its  fisheries,  and  the  indomitable 
spirit  of  its  people,  was  to  recover  early  in  the  struggle 
to  right  the  chaos  that  war  had  induced  and  that 
might  have  ruined  a  young  state  less  vigorous  in  its 
vitality.  And  on  the  Cape,  at  least,  there  was  one  in- 
dustry that  had  been  fostered  by  embargo  and  block- 
ade. Settlers  there,  from  the  first,  by  one  device  or 
another  had  extracted  salt  from  the  sea  for  their 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING          163 

use.  Cudworth,  friend  of  the  Quakers,  was  called  a 
"salter"  and  had  set  up  works  at  Scituate  which  he 
visited  frequently  after  he  removed  to  Barnstable; 
and  whether  owned  by  Cudworth  or  not,  Barnstable 
also  had  an  early  "saltern."  As  early  as  1624  a  man 
was  sent  to  Plymouth  to  manufacture  salt  by  the 
evaporation  of  sea-water  in  these  artificial  salt-ponds, 
a  process  not  favored  by  Bradford,  and  though  tedious 
and  not  too  successful  seems  to  have  been  followed 
for  more  than  a  century.  During  the  Revolution, 
when  no  salt  could  be  imported,  and  the  country 
must  rely  upon  the  domestic  produce,  salt  became  so 
scarce  that  a  bushel  sold  for  eight  dollars,  and  a  state 
bounty  of  three  shillings  a  bushel  was  offered  for  salt 
"manufactured  within  the  State  and  produced  from 
sea  salt." 

Here  was  a  fine  promise  of  reward  for  ingenuity, 
and  the  low  dunes  of  the  north  shore  of  the  Cape 
offered  ground  made  for  the  enterprise.  Men  there 
"tinkered"  and  "contrived"  and  improved  one  upon 
the  work  of  another,  until  in  1799  Captain  John 
Sears,  of  Dennis,  who  had  been  early  in  the  field  with  a 
device  known  as  "Sears's  Folly,"  patented  the  per- 
fected machine  to  obtain  pure  salt  by  means  of  sun 
evaporation  which  was  to  bring  wealth  to  many  of 
his  neighbors.  The  industry  ran  well  into  the  next  cen- 
tury when  importation  became  the  cheaper  method, 
and  at  its  height  companies  from  Billingsgate  to 
Yarmouth  employed  some  two  millions  of  capital  in 
the  business.  Many  an  old  sea-dog,  also,  ran  "salt- 
works" for  his  private  profit,  and  the  dunes  of  the 


164  OLD  CAPE  COD 

inner  bay  were  dotted  with  groups  of  the  surprising 
peaked-roof  structures  on  stilts  that  had  the  look  of 
Polynesian  villages.  These  roofs  capped  shallow  vats 
into  which  the  water  was  pumped  by  tiny  windmills. 
A  simple  mechanism  borrowed  from  ship-lore  that 
could  be  worked  by  the  turn  of  a  hand  swung  a  roof 
back  to  expose  the  vat  to  the  sun,  and  into  place  again 
to  protect  it  from  rain  and  dew.  Provincetown  made 
the  salt  for  its  fish-curing,  and  it  is  said  that  the 
crescent  shore  of  the  harbor  was  lined  for  miles  with 
the  whirring  windmills.  Not  many  years  ago  a  few  of 
the  picturesque  little  buildings  and  their  mills  could 
still  be  seen  on  the  dunes;  but  before  the  mid-eighteen 
hundreds,  the  business,  as  such,  was  at  an  end. 

II 

THE  First  Comers,  after  they  had  established  their 
farms,  quickly  turned  to  the  sea  for  the  profit  there 
was  in  it:  for  since  Cabot's  voyages,  and  before,  men 
had  known  of  the  riches  that  lay  there,  and  the 
earliest  history  of  the  Atlantic  coast  is  that  of  its 
rival  fisheries.  Cabot  encouraged  English  fishermen 
by  report  of  "soles  above  a  yard  in  length  and  a 
great  abundance  of  that  kind  which  the  savages  call 
baccalos  or  codfish."  France  exploited  the  Newfound- 
land fisheries,  and  by  1600  fully  ten  thousand  men 
were  employed  catching,  curing,  and  transporting 
the  fish:  one  old  Frenchman  boasted  that  he  had 
made  forty  voyages  to  the  Banks.  Holland  pushed 
into  the  trade  to  such  effect  that  men  said  Amsterdam 
was  built  on  herring  bones  and  Dutchmen  made  of 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING  165 

pickled  herring.  The  law  of  the  road,  at  sea,  was  a  hard 
law,  and  fishermen  fought  out  their  quarrels  there 
without  benefit  of  clergy.  In  1621,  when  the  Fortune 
made  her  landfall  and  Nauset  Indians  warned  Ply- 
mouth of  a  strange  boat  rounding  the  Cape,  it  was  be- 
cause of  the  suspicion  that  it  might  be  a  Frenchman 
bent  upon  mischief.  The  Old  Colony  was  to  bear  no 
small  part  in  England's  game  of  edging  out  compet- 
itors on  the  sea.  Plymouth  was  quick  to  estimate  the 
value  of  those  rich  fishing-grounds  in  the  lee  of  Cape 
Cod,  where  Gosnold's  chronicler  Brereton  was  "per- 
suaded that  in  the  months  of  March,  April,  and  May 
there  is  better  fishing  and  in  as  great  plenty  as  in  New- 
foundland," and,  as  we  have  seen,  used  the  revenue 
therefrom  for  the  maintenance  of  a  free  school.  Until 
well  up  to  the  middle  of  the  next  century  the  catch- 
ing of  mackerel,  bass,  cod,  and  herring,  duly  regulated, 
was  conducted  from  shore  by  seines,  weirs,  pounds, 
and  "fykes."  And  then  men  put  to  sea  for  voyages  to 
the  Banks,  and  prospered.  And  in  1850,  when  cod- 
fishing  was  at  its  height,  more  than  half  the  capital 
invested  in  it  by  Massachusetts  came  from  the  Cape. 
The  deep-sea  voyaging  of  the  clipper  ship  era  has 
been  dead  these  sixty  years,  but  still  fishermen  from 
the  Cape,  though  in  smaller  numbers  now,  join  up 
for  a  cruise  to  the  Banks.  They  are  more  frequently 
swarthy  newcomers  from  Cape  Verde  and  the  Azores 
than  the  English  stock  of  the  early  nineteenth  cen- 
tury when  the  Reverend  Mr.  Damon,  of  Truro,  sur- 
veying with  delight  the  arrival  of  a  fleet  of  four  or 
five  hundred  mackerel  schooners,  cautiously  modified 


166  OLD  CAPE  COD 

his  emotion  and  exclaimed : "  I  should  think  there  must 
be  seventy -five  vessels !  I  never  saw  such  a  beautiful 
sight!"  And  it  was  good  Mr.  Damon,  perplexed  in  his 
petition  for  fair  winds,  whether  men  should  be  sailing 
north  or  south,  who  thus  trimmed  ship:  "We  pray 
thee,  O  Lord,  that  thou  wilt  watch  over  our  mariners 
that  go  down  to  do  business  upon  the  mighty  deep, 
keep  them  in  the  hollow  of  thy  hand;  and  we  pray 
thee  that  thou  wilt  send  a  side-wind,  so  that  their 
vessels  may  pass  and  repass." 

Mr.  Rich  gives  a  lively  description  of  the  old  fish- 
ing days,  when  "all  Yankees  fished  with  hand-lines 
from  the  vessel."  "The  model  fisherman  keeps  his 
craft  snug  and  taut.  He  has  tested  her  temper  and 
strength  through  storm  and  calm.  He  will  defend  her 
sea-going  and  fast-sailing  almost  with  his  life.  A 
larger  fleet  and  finer  manreuvring  have  never  been 
seen  than  in  a  fleet  of  fishermen.  Sometimes  three  or 
four  hundred  sail,  from  forty  to  perhaps  one  hundred 
and  forty  tons,  all  sea-going,  well  equipped  and  well- 
manned,  haul  aft  their  sheets  in  a  freshening  breeze 
to  reach  a  windward  harbor.  Codfishing  on  the  Banks 
was  considered  tough  work.  The  boy  who  could  gradu- 
ate from  that  school  with  full  honors,  could  take  care 
of  himself;  fight  his  own  battles.  It  was  kill  or  cure; 
few,  however,  were  killed;  he  was  sure  to  come  home 
hale  and  hearty."  But  sometimes  the  fare  ran  short 
on  a  long  cruise,  and  the  staple  bean  soup  grew  thin. 
*'What  in  creation  are  you  doing?"  a  skipper  asked  a 
little  Dutch  sailor  who  was  peeling  off  his  jacket  as  he 
surveyed  the  scanty  meal.  "Tive  for  the  bean,  by 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING          167 

Cot,"  answered  Dutchy.  "Going  to  the  Grand  Bank 
meant  leaving  home  in  April  for  a  three  to  five 
months'  trip,  with  no  communication  till  the  return. 
It  meant  besides  the  usual  sea  casualties,  to  be  shut 
up  in  the  fog,  exposed  to  icebergs  and  cut  off  from 
the  world  as  if  alone  on  the  planet.  Do  not  imagine, 
however,  that  these  men  felt  they  were  prisoners,  or 
even  dreamed  of  being  unhappy.  It  was  their  business 
and  they  were  more  happy  and  content  than  the 
average  working-man  I  have  met  on  land.  Day  by 
day,  and  week  by  week,  a  more  cheerful  company, 
kind,  pleasant  and  accommodating,  it  would  be  hard 
to  find.  Saturday  night  was  a  happy  hour.  At  sunset 
the  lines  were  snugly  coiled,  the  decks  washed,  and  a 
single  watch  set  for  twenty -four  hours.  Sunday  was  a 
day  of  rest.  The  bright,  unfaltering  star  that  never 
set  or  dimmed,  that  robbed  the  voyage  of  half  its 
discomforts  and  terrors,  was  going  home.  How  pleas- 
ant the  anticipation,  how  glad  the  welcome,  how 
lavish  the  store!" 

Mackerel-fishing  was  a  separate  art  acquired  in  its 
perfection  by  the  progression  of  many  devices.  Here, 
again,  we  quote  from  Rich.  "Laying-to,  or  a  square 
dead  drift,  throwing  bait  freely,  coying  the  fish,  was 
found  the  most  successful.  By  this  way,  with  a  mod- 
erate breeze,  a  school  could  sometimes  be  kept  around 
a  vessel  for  hours.  As  many  as  one  hundred  and  fifty 
wash  barrels  have  been  caught  by  hook  and  line  at  a 
single  drift.  A  fleet  of  hundreds  of  sail,  laying-to  and 
beating  up  to  the  windward  to  keep  on  the  school  is  a 
fine  marine  picture.  'High-line'  is  the  highest  degree 


168  OLD  CAPE  COD 

conferred  in  this  school.  It  outranks  all  others.  The 
fishermen  of  Truro  were  among  the  first  to  follow  the 
mackerel  business  and  Truro  has  had  a  remarkable 
succession  of  leading  or  lucky  skippers."  It  is  a  de- 
light to  read  Mr.  Rich's  history,  and  we  must  repeat 
two  of  his  stories  of  "fisherman's  luck." 

A  certain  Captain  Ryder  was  one  of  a  large  fleet  of 
fishermen  that  were  lying  wind-bound  in  Hampton 
Roads.  The  young  captain,  in  the  face  of  probability, 
determined  to  try  for  a  breeze  outside.  There  he  took 
"a  fairish  wind  so  he  could  slant  along  and  saw  no 
more  land  nor  sky  till  he  struck  the  shore  in  Portland 
Harbor.  Here  he  had  quick  despatch  as  vessels  were 
scarce,"  and  returned  to  Hampton  Roads  to  find  the 
fleet  weather-bound  as  he  had  left  them,  waiting 
still  for  fair  conditions  to  put  to  sea.  Another  Truro 
fisherman,  who  had  the  name  of  making  fortunate 
voyages,  once  shipped  a  seaman  with  the  opposite 
reputation.  "I  hear,  skipper,  you've  shipped  Uncle 
\VifiY'  protested  one  of  the  crew.  "  I  won't  go  with 
him.  He's  a  'Jonas.'  You  won't  make  a  dollar."  "I've 
told  Uncle  Wiff  he  may  go,  and  go  he  shall,  make  or 
break,  whether  you  go  or  not,"  returned  the  cap'n. 
The  result  justified  his  courage.  "We  made  that  year 
the  best  voyage  I  ever  made,"  he  was  pleased  to  re- 
call, "and  Uncle  Win7  was  one  of  the  best  men  I 
ever  saw."  The  comment  of  Mr.  Rich  is  sufficient: 
"Lucky  men  are  most  always  bold,  brave  men;  and 
fortune  favors  the  brave." 

Whaling  was  a  business  distinct:  the  great  sea- 
sport,  to  ordinary  fishing  as  a  liou-huut  to  a  partridge- 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING          169 

shoot.  Early  in  the  seventeenth  century  Purchas,  in 
his  "Pilgrimage"  wrote  a  brave  epic  of  the  whale  that 
must  have  roused  many  a  stay-at-home  to  hunger  for 
adventure:  "I  might  here  recreate  your  wearied  eyes 
with  a  hunting  spectacle  of  the  greatest  chase  which 
nature  yieldeth;  I  mean  the  killing  of  a  whale."  Free- 
man says  that  the  method  thereof  was  but  "slightly 
altered  during  upwards  of  two  centuries."  Here, 
substantially,  is  Purchas:  "When  they  espy  him  on 
the  top  of  the  water,  they  row  toward  him  in  a  shal- 
lop, in  which  the  harpooneer  stands  ready  with  both 
hands  to  dart  his  harping  iron,  to  which  is  fastened  a 
line  of  such  length,  that  the  whale  may  carry  it  down 
with  him;  coming  up  again  they  again  strike  him  with 
lances  made  for  the  purpose  about  twelve  feet  long, 
and  thus  they  hold  him  in  such  pursuit,  till  after 
streams  of  water,  and  next  of  blood,  cast  up  into  the 
air  and  water,  he  at  length  yieldeth  his  slain  carcass 
to  the  conquerors."  "The  proportions  of  this  huge 
leviathan  deserves  description,"  chants  Purchas. 
"His  head  is  the  third  part  of  him,  his  mouth  (O, 
hellish  wide !)  sixteen  feet  in  the  opening,  and  yet  out 
of  that  belly  of  hell  yielding  much  to  the  ornaments  of 
our  women's  backs.  This  great  head  hath  little  eyes 
like  apples  and  a  little  throat  not  greater  than  for  a 
man's  fist  to  enter.  They  are  swallow-tailed,  the  ex- 
tremes being  twenty  feet  distant."  He  labors  for 
accuracy:  "The  ordinary  length  of  a  whale  is  sixty 
feet,  and  not  so  huge  as  Olaus  hath  written,  who  also 
niaketh  the  moose  as  big  as  an  elephant." 

In  1620  the  leviathan  was  familiar  enough  to  Cape 


170  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Cod  Bay  to  forestall  any  necessity  of  hunting  him  in 
the  far  seas.  The  schools  of  mackerel  and  cod  there 
made  rich  feeding  for  the  whales  which  not  infre- 
quently met  then*  death  when  greed  tolled  them  to 
shoal  waters  and  they  were  left  high  and  dry  by  the 
receding  tides.  Then  Indians  or  whites  made  their 
kill,  and  the  rights  in  these  "drift- whales"  were  a 
fruitful  source  of  trouble.  In  1662  the  agents  of  Yar- 
mouth had  appeared  at  court  "to  debate  and  have 
determined  a  difference  about  whales";  and  in  1690 
an  order  was  passed  "to  prevent  contests  and  suits  by 
whale-killers."  But  contests  there  were  between  one 
man  and  another,  and  town  and  province,  as  evi- 
denced in  1693  by  a  dispute  with  a  county  sheriff 
who  had  seized  two  whales  for  the  Crown;  and  in  1705 
by  a  letter  from  William  Clapp  to  "Squier"  Dudley, 
of  Boston,  a  better  testimony  to  Clapp's  business  en- 
terprise than  to  his  scholarship,  "i  have  liveed  hear 
at  the  Cap  this  4  year,"  wrote  Clapp,  "and  I  have 
very  often  every  year  sien  that  her  Maiesty  has  been 
very  much  wronged  of  bar  dues  by  these  country  peo- 
ple." And  he  would  be  willing  to  remedy  the  evil  "if 
your  honor  see  case  to  procure  a  commishon  of  his 
Exalency  for  me  with  in  strocktions  I  shall  by  the 
help  of  god  be  very  faithful  in  my  ofes."  And  that 
Clapp  got  his  appointment  is  shown  by  the  Gover- 
nor's endorsement  on  his  letter:  "Commission  for 
William  Clapp,  Lt.  at  the  Cape.  Warrant  to  prize 
drift  whales,  a  water  baylif."  But  the  towns  were 
tenacious  of  their  rights,  and  usually  assured  the  par- 
son's salary  from  their  profit.  Mr.  Cotton  of  Yar- 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING          171 

mouth  looked  there  for  his  forty  pounds  a  year;  Mr. 
Avery  of  Truro,  for  his  larger  stipend;  and  some  of 
the  whaling-profits  were  also  used  for  school  mainte- 
nance. 

Waiting  for  stranded  drift-whale  ill-suited  the 
spirit  of  the  pioneers  at  Cape  Cod,  and  soon  duly  com- 
missioned watchers  gave  notice  when  a  whale  spouted 
in  the  bay,  and  men  put  off  in  small  boats  to  give 
chase.  It  is  said  that  a  "Dutchman"  from  Long  Is- 
land, Lopez  by  name,  taught  Barnstable  men  the  art 
of  killing,  and  that  Lieutenant  John  Gorham,  who 
made  a  tidy  fortune  out  of  the  business  and  whose 
son  was  to  use  his  whaleboat  fleet  to  good  advan- 
tage in  the  French  wars,  "first  fixt  out  with  old  Lopez 
a*  whaling  in  ye  year  about  1680."  Ten  years  later 
Nantucket  sent  to  Cape  Cod  for  Ichabod  Paddock 
"to  instruct  them  in  the  best  manner  of  killing  whales 
and  extracting  their  oil."  At  Yarmouth  a  tract  of  land 
was  set  off  as  "Whaling  Grounds,"  where  a  lookout 
was  kept  and  the  crews  lodged  ready  to  put  off  at  the 
instant's  alarm.  Cotton  Mather  comments  upon  a 
great  kill  there  of  a  whale  fifty -five  feet  long.  "A  cart 
upon  wheels  might  have  gone  into  the  mouth  of  it. 
So  does  the  good  God  here  give  the  people  to  suck  the 
sea."  And  as  late  as  1843  a  monster  whale  was  cap- 
tured near  Provincetown  by  a  small  "pink-stern" 
schooner.  Its  estimated  value  in  oil  and  bone  was  ten 
thousand  dollars,  of  which,  owing  to  lack  of  facility 
in  the  salvage,  only  a  small  part  was  realized. 

The  Indians,  who  were  particularly  expert  in  the 
art,  were  always  employed  largely  both  in  bay  and 


172  OLD  CAPE  COD 

deep-water  whaling;  and  they,  too,  were  jealous  of 
their  shore  rights.  In  1757  the  Indians  of  Eastham 
and  Harwich  complained  to  the  General  Court  of  the 
encroachment  of  whites,  especially  on  "a  certain  neck 
or  beach  in  or  near  Eastham  called  Billingsgate 
Point  or  Island,  the  place  most  convenient  for  the 
whale-fishery  in  the  whole  county,  and  always  before 
so  improved."  And  it  is  noted  that  "certain  inhab- 
itants of  Harwich"  were  prosecuted  for  such  "whale 
fishery  at  Billingsgate." 

It  was  in  Wellfleet  Harbor  that  the  Pilgrims  had 
seen  Indians  at  a  kill  of  blackfish,  and  named  it 
"Grampus  Bay."  These  blackfish,  only  less  valuable 
for  oil  than  whales,  down  to  recent  times  were  oc- 
casionally beached  in  great  shoals  on  the  Cape,  and 
the  stench  of  the  rotting  carcases  carried  for  miles. 
Mr.  Rich  tells  of  a  Truro  captain  who,  as  he  drove  his 
cows  to  pasture  one  fine  morning,  descried  on  the 
shore  as  he  took  a  squint  seaward  seventy -five  huge 
fish,  which  before  nightfall  he  had  sold  for  nineteen 
hundred  dollars.  And  in  1874,  over  fourteen  hundred, 
the  largest  school  ever  known,  were  stranded  at 
Truro  and  cut  up  to  twenty-seven  thousand  gallons 
of  oil.  Even  boys  were  adept  at  the  game;  and  one 
urchin,  having  prevented  several  great  fish  from  es- 
caping to  deep  water,  fought  one  with  hatchet  and 
knife,  made  his  kill,  and  was  discovered  deftly  strip- 
ping it  of  blubber.  It  was  in  1834,  as  ill  chance  would 
have  it  on  a  Sabbath,  that  a  vast  school  of  blackfish 
was  beached  at  Truro.  Here  was  temptation  for  the 
devout  that  was  to  divide,  in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  the 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING  173 

sheep  from  the  goats.  Many  fishermen  happened  to 
be  offshore;  the  news  reached  the  churches  at  the 
close  of  morning  service.  It  is  said  honors  were  even 
as  to  Sabbath-breakers  from  church-goers  and  sea- 
men. But  one  young  sailor,  though  he  was  no  "pro- 
fessor," refused  to  take  part  in  the  chase  because, 
forsooth,  his  father  had  kept  sacred  the  day.  He  was 
a  conservative  by  nature,  and  winter  after  winter 
studied  his  sums  in  a  tattered  old  book.  "My  father 
and  grandfather  cyphered  out  of  that  arithmetic," 
was  his  retort  for  criticism.  "I  should  think  it  divilish 
strange  if  I  can't." 

From  hunting  the  whale  offshore  in  small  boats, 
Cape  seamen,  when  the  prey  grew  more  wary,  pur- 
sued it  to  the  farthest  reaches  of  the  ocean,  and 
brought  back  prosperity  to  the  home  ports.  Wellfleet 
was  a  great  whaling  town;  Truro  also,  and  Province- 
town.  Then  the  bulk  of  the  business  went  to  the 
islands  to  the  southward  and  to  New  Bedford.  Cap- 
tain Jesse  Holbrook  of  Truro,  who  killed  fifty-four 
sperm  whales  on  one  voyage,  was  employed  for  twelve 
years  by  a  London  company  to  teach  English  lads  his 
art,  and  it  was  two  Truro  captains,  on  the  advice  of 
an  English  admiral  stationed  at  Boston,  who  were  the 
first  to  go  whaling  about  the  Falkland  Islands.  Cap- 
tain William  Handy,  of  Sandwich,  was  another 
famous  whaling-captain  during  and  after  the  Revo- 
lution, sailing  from  New  Bedford  and  also  from  Dun- 
kirk by  some  engagement  made  with  Napoleon.  On 
one  such  voyage  he  and  a  single  companion,  both 
unarmed,  had  a  desperate  encounter  with  a  huge 


174  OLD  CAPE  COD 

polar  bear  where  they  had  landed  on  an  icy  shore; 
the  ice  bore  up  them  and  not  the  bear,  or  even  their 
courage  would  have  availed  them  little  in  the  unequal 
conflict.  Captain  Handy  retired  to  become  a  ship- 
builder, but  was  impoverished  by  "the  French 
spoliations,"  as  well  as  from  the  War  of  1812,  and  at 
the  age  of  sixty  returned  to  the  sea  to  make  good  his 
fortune  and  "to  show  the  boys  how  to  take  whales," 
when  "he  accomplished  in  fifteen  months  a  most  suc- 
cessful cruise  to  the  admiration  of  all."  In  1771  no  less 
than  seventy-four  vessels  had  been  engaged  in  such 
ventures;  and  Mr.  Osborn,  the  versatile  Eastham  par- 
son who  taught  his  people  how  to  use  peat,  celebrated 
their  prowess  on  the  sea  in  a  whaling-song  that  opened 
with  appropriate  detail: 

"When  Spring  returns  with  western  gales, 
And  gentle  breezes  sweep 
The  ruffling  seas,  we  spread  our  sails 
To  plow  the  wat'ry  deep; 
For  killing  northern  whale  prepar'd, 
Our  nimble  boats  on  board 
With  craft  and  rum  (our  chief  regard) 
And  good  provision  stor'd; 
Cape  Cod,  our  dearest,  native  land, 
We  leave  astern,  and  lose 
Its  sinking  cliffs  and  lessening  sands 
Whilst  Zephyr  gently  blows." 

But  it  is  Edmund  Burke,  in  the  British  Commons, 
with  the  magno  modo  of  the  time  but  commendable 
accuracy,  who  pronounced  the  panegyric  of  the  New 
England  whalers:  "While  we  follow  them  among  the 
tumbling  mountains  of  ice,  penetrating  into  the 


THEOLOGY  AND  WHALING          175 

deepest  recesses  of  Hudson  Bay;  while  we  are  looking 
for  them  beneath  the  Arctic  circle,  we  hear  that  they 
have  pierced  into  the  opposite  region  of  Polar  cold, 
that  they  are  at  the  Antipodes,  and  engaged  under 
the  frozen  Serpent  of  the  South.  Falkland  Island, 
which  seemed  too  remote  and  romantic  an  object  for 
the  grasp  of  natural  ambition,  is  but  a  stage  and  rest- 
ing-place in  the  progress  of  their  victorious  industry. 
While  some  of  them  draw  the  line  and  strike  the  har- 
poon on  the  coast  of  Africa,  others  run  the  longitude 
and  pursue  the  gigantic  game  along  the  shores  of 
Brazil." 


CHAPTER  VII 
STORMS  AND  PIRATES 

I 

THE  sea  that  was  at  every  man's  threshold,  combing 
down  the  beaches  of  the  outer  shore,  lapsing  from  the 
sands  ebb-tide  and  flood  again  in  the  bay,  formed  such 
a  part  of  the  day's  experience  as  would  be  incon- 
ceivable to  one  of  inland  habitude.  It  was  a  friend  to 
be  loved,  an  enemy  to  be  fought,  a  giver  of  food,  and 
a  solemn  harvester  that  brought  dead  men  to  the 
door.  Memorable  storms  have  ravaged  the  shore:  it 
is  amazing  that  anything  so  delicate  as  the  charming 
curve  of  Champlain's  Cap  Blanc  could  withstand  the 
pull  and  push  of  the  Atlantic  surges;  Gosnold's  Point 
Gilbert  and  Tucker's  Terror  have  been  torn  away  and 
moulded  elsewhere  in  other  form;  and  the  shoals  of 
that  cruel  outer  strand  might  be  piled  high  with  their 
wrecked  ships.  Nor  has  tragedy  been  all  oceanwards. 
In  1827  there  was  a  lowering  capricious  winter 
when  with  more  than  common  malice  the  wind, 
"bringing  cold  out  of  the  north,"  would  swing  to  the 
melting  south  and  back  again  to  freeze  and  destroy. 
It  was  on  such  a  day  that  the  schooner  Almira,  loaded 
with  wood,  put  her  nose  out  of  Sandwich  Harbor.  The 
rain  had  stopped  at  noon,  the  air  was  thick  with 
vapor,  and  high  overhead,  as  if  seeking  their  shepherd 
wind,  scudded  little  anxious  clouds.  Then,  change 
about,  by  nightfall  the  iron  hand  of  the  north  had 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  177 

stripped  the  heavens  bare  and  stars  looked  coldly 
down  upon  the  scene.  The  air  had  filled  with  needles 
of  frost  to  cut  the  faces  of  the  miserable  crew,  and 
drenched  as  they  were  with  spray  they  froze  as  they 
stood.  The  boat  was  headed  for  Plymouth  Light;  but 
Plymouth  lay  directly  in  the  eye  of  the  wind,  and  it 
was  tack  and  tack  again  with  sails  slowly  shredding 
to  rags  and  every  rope  unyielding  steel.  The  boat  still 
answered  her  helm,  but  it  was  useless  to  drive  her 
longer  against  wind  and  tide,  and  they  turned  her 
about  for  home.  Into  Barnstable  Bay  she  swept,  and 
in  the  moonlight  that  was  more  relentless  than  shroud- 
ing storm  the  master  could  see  his  own  comfortable 
white  house.  The  boat  travelled  as  "if  intent  on 
some  spot  where  it  might  be  wrecked,"  and  there  on 
the  teeth  of  a  cruel  ledge,  less  than  the  turn  of  twenty- 
four  hours  since  she  had  set  sail  in  the  languorous 
south  wind,  the  land  once  more  received  her.  At  the 
helm,  his  hands  frozen  to  the  tiller,  his  feet  set  fast  in 
ice,  pitiful  rescuers  found  the  only  man  who  breathed : 
the  others  of  that  little  company  had  made  the  cold 
port  of  death. 

There  have  been  historic  wrecks,  historic  storms. 
As  early  as  1669  a  quarrel  over  the  salvage  of  a  wreck 
was  settled  in  court.  Bradford,  in  1635,  records  such 
a  storm  "as  none  living  in  these  parts,  either  English 
or  Indians,  ever  saw,  causing  the  sea  to  swell  above 
twenty  feet  right  up."  "Tall  young  oaks  and  walnut 
trees  of  good  bigness  were  wound  as  a  withe."  And 
"the  wrecks  of  it  will  remain  for  a  hundred  years."  It 
was  this  storm,  raging  up  and  down  the  coast,  that 


178  OLD  CAPE  COD 

threw  Anthony  Thacher  and  his  little  family  upon 
the  rocks  of  Cape  Ann.  And  some  Connecticut  colo- 
nists, wrecked  in  Manomet  Bay  and  wandering  for 
days  in  the  snow,  finally  reached  Plymouth  and  were 
hospitably  entertained  there  for  the  winter.  Brad- 
ford's storm  "took  the  roof  of  a  house  at  Manomet 
and  put  it  in  another  place";  and  Rich  reports  the 
great  gale  of  a  later  year  that  washed  a  house  from  its 
moorings  on  the  Isles  of  Shoals  and  landed  it  at  Truro 
so  far  intact  that  a  box  of  linen  and  some  papers  were 
preserved  to  tell  its  story.  He  seems  to  think  that  if 
the  family  had  had  the  courage  to  stand  by  their 
house,  they  might  have  made  the  voyage  to  Cape  Cod 
in  safety.  After  a  savage  September  gale  in  1815  that 
centred  in  Buzzard's  Bay,  a  coasting  schooner  was 
found  upright  in  some  large  trees,  and  another,  lifted 
clean  over  a  bluff,  blocked  the  door  of  a  house.  Every- 
thing ashore  was  laid  waste;  even  springs  became 
brackish;  but  some  land  was  enriched  by  its  flooding 
and  where  only  moss  had  been  grass  was  to  grow. 

In  1703  the  body  of  Captain  Peter  Adolphe,  cast 
upon  the  shore  at  Sandwich,  was  there  decently 
buried;  and  his  widow,  in  grateful  acknowledgment, 
presented  the  town  with  a  bell  cast  in  Munich  and 
inscribed,  "Si  Devs  pron  bvs  [  sic }  qvis  contra  nos 
1675,"  which  was  later  sold  to  Barnstable  where  it  is 
preserved  as  a  relic. 

In  1723  "The  Great  Storm"  that  "raised  the  tide 
three  or  four  feet  higher  than  had  been  known  afore- 
time," was  reported  by  Mather  to  the  Royal  Society 
of  London.  In  1770  and  1785  were  similar  storms. 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  179 

Bradford  records  that  "the  moon  suffered  a  great 
eclipse"  the  second  night  after  his  storm;  there  were 
comets,  portents  of  evil,  during  the  Indian  troubles, 
and  earthquakes  —  in  1638  one  so  violent  that  "peo- 
ple out  of  doors  could  scarcely  retain  a  position  on 
their  feet";  and  the  dating  of  subsequent  events  as 
so  long  "after  the  earthquake "  was  "as  common  for 
many  years  as  once  with  the  Children  of  Israel."  In 
1727  a  heavier  shock  still  was  "reformatory  of  some 
loose-livers  in  America  who  became  apparently  de- 
vout penitents";  and  in  1755  was  the  worst  earth- 
quake that  ever  was  known. 

In  November,  1729,  one  Captain  Lothrop,  Boston 
to  Martha's  Vineyard,  espied  off  Monomoy  a  vessel 
in  distress,  and  boarding  her  discovered  shocking 
evidence  of  her  state.  Of  the  one  hundred  and  ninety 
souls  who  had  set  sail  from  Ireland  for  the  port  of 
Philadelphia,  no  less  than  one  hundred,  including  all 
the  children  but  one,  had  died  of  starvation.  Twenty 
weeks  they  had  been  afloat,  and  were  out  of  both 
water  and  food.  "They  entreated  him  to  pilot  them 
into  the  first  harbor  they  could  get  into,  and  were  all 
urgent  to  put  them  ashore  anywhere,  if  it  were  but 
land."  Lothrop  would  have  taken  them  to  Boston, 
but,  when  they  threatened  to  throw  him  into  the  sea, 
landed  them  hastily  with  some  provisions,  at  Sandy 
Point  where  there  was  but  one  house.  A  writer  in  a 
current  number  of  the  "New  England  Weekly  Jour- 
nal" remarks  that  "notwithstanding  their  extremity, 
't  was  astounding  to  behold  their  impenitence,  and 
to  hear  their  profane  speeches."  Their  captain  pro- 


180  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ceeded  to  Philadelphia  where  he  was  arrested  for 
cruelty  to  passengers  and  crew,  sent  in  irons  to  Dub- 
lin, and  met  his  just  deserts  by  being  hanged  and 
quartered.  The  one  young  survivor  of  that  wretched 
company,  James  Delap,  found  his  way  to  Barnstable, 
and  was  apprenticed  to  a  blacksmith  there.  In  due 
time  he  married  Mary  O  'Kelley,  of  Yarmouth,  and  in 
winter  practised  his  trade,  in  summer  was  a  seaman 
on  the  Boston  packet.  This  Irishman  was  something 
of  a  Tory,  and  in  1775  emigrated  to  Nova  Scotia 
where  he  died.  A  son,  master  of  a  vessel  in  the  king's 
service,  perished  on  Nantucket  where  his  boat  was 
wrecked  in  a  furious  blizzard;  two  of  his  daughters 
married  in  Barnstable. 

When  the  emigration  of  loyalists  was  well  under 
way,  boat  after  boat,  crowded  far  beyond  safety, 
set  out  from  Boston  and  New  York  for  Nova  Scotia, 
where,  as  one  such  traveller  said,  "it's  winter  nine 
months  of  the  year,  and  cold  weather  the  rest  of  the 
time  " ;  and  where,  even  were  they  fortunate  enough  to 
escape  disease  or  starvation  or  wreck  on  the  voyage, 
they  were  to  suffer  privations  beyond  any  the  early 
Pilgrims  endured.  In  March,  177C,  "a  sloop  loaded 
with  English  goods,  having  sailed  from  Boston  for 
Halifax,  with  sundry  Tories  and  a  large  number  of 
women  and  children,  some  of  whom  were  sick  with 
smallpox,"  was  cast  ashore  at  Province  town.  Na- 
thaniel Freeman  was  one  of  a  committee  appointed 
"to  repair  forthwith  to  the  place  and  prevent  the 
escape  of  the  passengers  and  crew  and  secure  the 
vessel  and  cargo,"  and  the  selectmen  of  Truro  shared 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  181 

in  the  task.  What  became  of  the  sick  women  and 
children  we  are  not  told,  but  we  may  be  reasonably 
certain  that  the  rancor  of  the  Whigs  was  not  vented 
on  them.  Another  of  these  Tory  refugee  ships  was 
wrecked  on  Block  Island,  and  it  was  said  that  for 
years  after  the  ghosts  of  those  who  perished  there 
could  be  seen  struggling  in  the  surf  and  their  cries 
heard  by  men  ashore. 

English  ships,  in  these  days,  were  raking  the  coast 
of  the  Cape  from  their  stations  at  Tarpaulin  Cove 
and  Provincetown,  but  in  November,  1778,  a  sorry 
landing  was  made  when  "The  Somerset,  British 
man-of-war,"  sung  by  Longfellow  in  his  "Land- 
lord's Tale,"  struck  on  the  murderous  Peaked  Hill 
Bar  off  Provincetown  and,  lightered  of  guns  and  am- 
munition, at  high  tide  was  flung  on  the  beach.  For 
two  years,  patrolling  the  coast  or  "swinging  wide  at 
her  moorings"  in  the  harbor,  she  had  been  a  familiar 
sight  to  patriots  ashore,  and  now,  without  observing 
too  closely  the  letter  of  the  law,  they  were  to  take 
what  the  sea  gave  them.  Rich  records  some  prelimi- 
nary amenities  between  the  captain  and  a  company  of 
visitors  from  Hog  Back,  one  of  whom,  "a  short  old 
man  with  a  short-tailed  pipe,"  asked  for  the  captain, 
and  Aurey,  supposing  him  in  authority,  received  him 
civilly.  "Well,  cap'n,"  drawled  Cape  Cod,  "who  did 
you  pray  to  in  the  storm?  If  you  called  on  the  Lord, 
he  would  n't  have  sent  you  here.  And  I  'm  sure  King 
George  wouldn't."  Whereupon  the  captain:  "Old 
man,  you've  had  your  pipe  fished."  An  anecdote  that 
goes  to  show  not  unfriendly  relations  between  adver- 


182  OLD  CAPE  COD 

saries.  In  due  time  the  captain  and  crew,  to  the 
number  of  four  hundred  and  eighty,  were  marched 
to  Boston  to  the  exultation  of  all  beholders,  and  the 
Board  of  War  stripped  the  ship  of  her  armament. 
But  before  and  after  this  was  accomplished,  the 
neighborhood  engaged  itself  with  plunder,  and  there 
seems  to  have  been  some  confusion  in  the  right  to 
loot.  "From  all  I  can  learn,"  wrote  Joseph  Otis,  of 
Barnstable,  "there  is  wicked  work  at  the  wreck, 
riotous  doings."  He  excused  himself  from  the  duty  of 
regulating  matters  there  as  his  father,  the  old  chief 
justice,  lay  a-dying.  "The  Truro  and  Provincetown 
men  made  a  division  of  the  clothing,  etc.  Truro  took 
two- thirds  and  Province  town  one- third.  There  is  a 
plundering  gang  that  way."  Certainly  Barnstable 
was  too  remote  to  share  in  the  largess.  Mr.  Rich  had 
seen  canes  made  from  the  Somerset's  fine  old  English 
oak,  and  cites  a  certain  silver  watch,  part  of  the 
"effects,"  that  was  still  keeping  good  time  at  Pond 
Village.  Drifting  sands  piled  up  to  conceal  the  wreck, 
a  century  later  swept  back  to  disclose  her  to  the  gaze 
of  the  curious,  and  then  again  buried  the  bones  of  her. 
In  December  of  1778,  the  Federal  brig  General 
Arnold,  Magee  master  and  twelve  Barnstable  men 
among  the  crew,  drove  ashore  on  the  Plymouth  flats 
during  a  furious  nor'easter,  the  "Magee  storm"  that 
mariners,  for  years  after,  used  as  a  date  to  reckon 
from.  The  vessel  was  shrouded  in  snow  and  ice,  men 
froze  to  the  rigging,  others  were  smothered  in  the 
snow,'a  few  were  washed  overboard;  and  when,  after 
three  days,  succor  caine  to  them,  only  thirty-three 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  183 

men  lived  of  the  one  hundred  and  five  who  had  sailed 
from  Boston  so  short  a  time  before.  Of  the  twelve 
Barnstable  men  only  one  survived.  Bound  in  ice,  he 
lay  on  deck  as  one  dead:  conscious,  but  powerless  to 
move  or  speak.  By  one  chance  in  a  thousand,  the 
rescuers  caught  his  agonized  gaze;  they  bore  him 
ashore,  nursed  him  back  to  life,  and  when  he  was  able 
to  travel  sent  him  home  over  the  snow-blocked  roads 
in  an  ambulance  improvised  from  a  hammock  slung 
between  horses  fore  and  aft.  The  Plymouth  folk,  un- 
like the  looters  of  the  Somerset  —  who,  to  be  sure, 
looted  only  an  enemy  —  not  only  buried  the  dead 
and  sheltered  the  living,  but  guarded  the  property 
aboard  the  General  Arnold  for  its  owners.  As  for 
Barnstable,  he  lost  both  his  feet  from  frost-bite,  but 
could  ride  to  church  on  the  Sabbath  as  well  as  an- 
other. He  busied  himself  about  his  garden  in  sum- 
mer, and  in  winter  coopered  for  his  neighbors;  with 
considerable  skill,  also,  he  cast  many  small  articles  in 
pewter  and  lead. 

In  1798,  the  "Salem  Gazette"  reports:  "seven 
vessels  ashore  on  Cape  Cod,  twenty-five  bodies  picked 
up  and  buried,  probably  no  lives  saved."  In  1802, 
there  was  another  memorable  wreck  on  the  Peaked 
Hill  Bar  when  three  Salem  vessels  richly  laden,  one 
for  Leghorn,  two  for  Bordeaux,  foundered  there  in  a 
blinding  storm.  And,  slow  as  the  posts  then  were,  not 
for  nearly  three  weeks  were  full  details  of  the  loss  re- 
ceived at  Salem.  For  many  years,  every  great  snow- 
storm following  a  fine  day  in  March  would  revive 
the  story  of  "the  three  Salem  ships."  During  the 


184  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Embargo  War,  a  Truro  man  fitted  out  an  old  boat 
to  trade  with  Boston,  and  on  one  such  trip  was  over- 
taken at  nightfall,  below  Minot's  Ledge,  by  a  fu- 
rious northeast  snowstorm.  It  seemed  probable  that 
there  would  be  one  embargo-dodger  the  less  to  harry 
the  revenue  officers.  The  crew  consisted  of  a  solitary 
seaman  noted  for  good  judgment,  his  only  oath  milk- 
mild.  "Well,  Mr.  White,  what  would  you  do  now?" 
inquired  the  skipper.  "By  gracious,  sir,"  returned 
White,  all  unperturbed,  "I'd  take  in  the  mains'l, 
double  reef  the  fores '1,  and  give  her  an  offing."  La- 
conic direction  for  the  one  course  that  offered  hope, 
and  the  event  justified  its  wisdom.  In  1815  a  Septem- 
ber gale  that  equalled  Bradford's  Great  Storm  swept 
Buzzard's  Bay,  piled  the  tides  higher  than  had  ever 
been  known,  and  all  but  excavated  a  Cape  Cod 
Canal.  Trees  were  uprooted,  salt-works  destroyed, 
and  vessels  driven  high  on  land.  In  1831,  to  vary  the 
story,  unprecedented  snows  were  fatal  to  deer  in  the 
Sandwich  woods  where  they  fell  easy  prey  to  hunters 
on  snowshoes  who  brought  in  no  less  than  two  hun- 
dred, forty  of  them  trapped  alive. 

All  up  and  down  the  Cape,  in  every  village  and 
town,  as  the  years  passed,  the  sea  took  its  toll  of  men. 
In  1828  some  thirty  of  them,  mostly  from  Sandwich 
and  Yarmouth,  small  merchants  and  artisans  who 
had  spent  the  winter  "prosecuting  their  business"  in 
South  Carolina,  were  lost  on  their  homeward  voyage. 
That  was  a  disastrous  year  for  many  a  man  who  fol- 
lowed the  sea,  and  in  Truro,  especially,  the  number  of 
grave-stones  grew.  Of  all  these  memorials  the  most 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  185 

tragic  is  that  "Sacred  to  the  memory  of  fifty-seven 
citizens  of  Truro  who  were  lost  in  seven  vessels,  which 
foundered  at  sea  in  the  memorable  gale  of  October  3, 
1841."  Fifty-seven  men  of  Truro,  ten  of  Yarmouth, 
twenty  of  Dennis  "mostly  youngsters  under  thirty," 
never  made  port  in  that  gale.  They  were  fishing  on 
George's  Bank  when  the  storm  broke,  and  "made  sail 
to  run  for  the  highland  of  Cape  Cod,"  we  may  read. 
"But  there  were  mighty  currents  unknown  to  them 
before  which  carried  them  out  of  the  proper  course  to 
the  southwest.  Finding  they  could  not  weather  by  the 
highland  they  wore  ship  and  stood  to  the  southeast 
but  being  disabled  in  their  sails  and  rigging  —  the 
strongest  canvas  was  blown  into  shreds  —  they  were 
carried  by  wind  and  current  upon  the  Nantucket 
Shoals."  A  few  boats  did  succeed  in  rounding  Prov- 
incetown;  others  never  made  even  the  Nantucket 
Shoals;  one  was  found  bottom  up  in  Nauset  Harbor, 
"with  the  boys  drowned  in  her  cabin."  A  captain, 
whose  seamanship  and  indomitable  pluck  saved  him 
that  day,  lived  to  write  the  record.  "I  knew  we  had  a 
good  sea-boat;  I  had  tried  her  in  a  hard  scratch,  and 
knew  our  race  was  life  or  death."  Somehow,  where 
other  masters  failed,  he  won.  By  a  hair's  breadth  he 
escaped  the  shoals.  "We  hung  on  sharp  as  possible  by 
the  wind,  our  little  craft  proving  herself  not  only  able 
but  seemingly  endowed  with  life.  In  this  way  at  3.30 
we  weathered  the  Highlands  with  no  room  to  spare. 
When  off  Peaked  Hill  Bar  the  jib  blew  away,  and  we 
just  cleared  the  breakers;  but  we  had  weathered!  the 
lee  shore  was  astern,  and  Race  Point  under  our  lee, 


186  OLD  CAPE  COD 

which  we  rounded  and  let  go  our  anchor  in  the  Herring 
Cove."  Rich  chronicles  the  almost  incredible  feat  of 
another  boat  that  turned  turtle  and  around  again  and 
survived.  The  Reform  lay-to  "under  bare  poles,  with 
a  drag-net  to  keep  her  head  to  the  wind.  As  it  was 
impossible  to  remain  on  deck  on  account  of  the  sea 
making  a  breach  fore  and  aft,  all  hands  fastened 
themselves  in  the  cabin  and  awaited  their  fate,  at  the 
mercy  of  the  storm.  A  moment  after  a  terrific  sea 
fairly  swallowed  them  many  fathoms  below  the  sur- 
face. The  vessel  was  thrown  completely  bottom  up. 
The  crew  had  no  doubt  it  was  her  final  plunge.  A  few 
seconds  only,  she  was  again  on  her  keel.  Two  or  three 
men  crawled  on  deck ;  they  found  the  masts  gone  and 
the  hawser  of  the  drag  wound  around  the  bowsprit. 
She  had  turned  completely  over,  and  came  up  on  the 
opposite  side."  For  weeks  after  the  storm,  a  vessel 
cruised  about  seeking  disabled  boats  or  some  trace  of 
their  loss ;  but  save  the  schooner  in  Nauset  Harbor,  not 
a  vestige  of  boats  or  men  was  ever  found.  It  is  said  that 
a  Provincetown  father,  "  who  had  two  sons  among  the 
missing,  for  weeks  would  go  morning  and  evening  to 
the  hill-top  which  overlooked  the  ocean,  and  there 
seating  himself,  would  watch  for  hours,  scanning  the 
distant  horizon  with  his  glass,  hoping  every  moment 
to  discover  some  speck  on  which  to  build  a  hope." 

In  1853  another  Great  Storm  swept  away  wharves 
and  storehouses  on  the  bay,  and  wrecked  a  schooner 
at  Sandy  Neck,  with  "  all  hands  lost "  to  add  to  the  tale 
of  disaster  on  the  outer  shore.  And  so  walks  the  proces- 
sion of  storms  down  to  the  one  of  yesterday  when  the 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  187 

coast-guard  fought  hour  by  hour  through  the  night 
to  save  the  crew  of  a  boat  pounding  to  pieces  in  the  surf 
a  scant  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  from  shore.  And  be- 
fore the  days  of  the  coast-guard,  men  had  worn  paths 
above  the  cliffs  where  they  paced  on  the  lookout  for 
wrecks.  "Thick  weather,  easterly  gales,  storms,"  and 
on  such  nights  men,  even  as  they  ate,  kept  an  eye  to 
the  sea.  One  Captain  Collins,  of  Truro,  called  from 
table  by  the  familiar  cry,  "Ship  ashore,  all  hands 
perishing,"  within  the  hour  had  laid  down  his  life  in  a 
fruitless  effort  at  rescue  —  he  and  a  companion  whose 
widow  had  lost  all  the  men  related  to  her  by  the  sea. 
By  differing  methods  the  same  spiri  has  worked 
through  all  the  years:  "Ship  ashore,  all  hands  perish- 
ing," and  it  is  the  business  of  men  who  might  be  safe 
to  risk  their  lives  in  the  fight  with  death. 

II 

THE  sombre  tale  of  wrecks  will  never  be  done,  but 
pirate  stories  no  longer  incite  youth  to  possible  ad- 
venture. In  the  old  days  Cape  Cod  men  had  plenty  of 
chances  to  show  their  prowess  against  such  adver- 
saries, and  likewise  against  the  privateersmen  who 
sometimes  made  use  of  their  letters  of  marque  in 
highly  personal  ventures.  Nor  was  danger  from  out- 
and-out  piracy  unfamiliar  to  peaceful  folk  ashore. 
The  Earl  of  Bellamont,  Governor  of  Massachusetts 
and  New  York,  was  "particularly  instructed  to  put 
a  stop  to  the  growth  of  piracy,  the  seas  being  con- 
stantly endangered  by  freebooters";  and  the  achieve- 
ment of  his  short  incumbency  was  the  apprehension 


188  OLD  CAPE  COD 

of  Captain  Kidd.  Kidd,  duly  commissioned  a  privateer, 
was  one  of  those  who  turned  to  the  more  lucrative 
trade  of  pirate.  Then,  pushed  hard,  he  buried  his 
profits,  to  the  incitement  of  many  future  treasure 
hunts,  and  thinking  to  escape  detection  through 
sheer  boldness,  appeared  in  Boston.  But  he  was 
recognized,  laid  by  the  heels,  and  packed  off  to  Lon- 
don where  he  was  duly  hanged.  An  earlier  pirate  of 
our  coast  with  better  fortune  died  in  his  bed,  a  re- 
spected country  gentleman,  no  doubt,  at  Isle  worth, 
England,  in  the  year  1703.  He  had  been  pilot  on  a 
pirate-chaser  appointed  by  Governor  Andros  to  clean 
up  the  seas  off  New  England,  and  in  process  of  pur- 
suing the  pirates  had  opportunity  to  observe  the  ease 
of  their  methods. 

In  1689  this  Thomas  Pound,  in  partnership  with  an- 
other master-mariner  and  duly  commissioned  to  prey 
upon  French  merchantmen,  set  sail  from  Boston.  But 
they  had  proceeded  no  farther  than  the  Brewsters  when 
they  were  holding  up  a  mackerel  sloop  for  supplies, 
and  fifteen  miles  out  they  neatly  exchanged  their  own 
boat  for  a  better  one  Salem-bound,  whose  crew,  save 
one  John  Derby  who  joined  the  adventurers  as  a 
"voluntary,"  was  to  turn  up  at  home  and  give  news  of 
the  lately  commissioned  privateer,  Thomas  Pound, 
master.  Pound,  meantime,  with  a  long  advantage  in 
the  chase,  was  off  for  Portland  and  Casco  Bay.  Fully 
equipped  from  the  Portland  militia  stores  with  cloth- 
ing, powder,  musket  and  cutlass,  carbines  and  brass 
cannon,  he  made  for  Provincetown  and  again  changed 
to  a  better  boat  whose  master  was  sent  back  to  Bos- 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  189 

ton  with  the  saucy  message  to  probable  pursuers  that: 
"They  Knew  ye  goot  Sloop  lay  ready  but  if  she  came 
out  after  them  &  came  up  wh  them  shd  find  hott  work 
for  they  wd  die  every  man  before  they  would  be 
taken."  Boston,  nevertheless,  sent  out  its  sloop,  with 
orders  to  take  Pound,  or  any  other  pirate,  but  quaintly, 
in  so  hazardous  an  enterprise,  "to  void  the  shedding 
of  blood  unless  you  be  necessitated  by  resistance." 
Perhaps  Boston  had  heard  the  rumor  that  Richard, 
brother  to  Sir  William  Phips,  Governor,  was  of  the 
pirate  company.  Pound  rounded  the  Cape,  picked  up 
a  prize  in  the  Sound,  was  blown  out  to  sea,  and  re- 
turned to  the  rich  hunting  about  the  Cape  by  way  of 
Virginia.  Off  Martha's  Vineyard,  again,  he  drove  a 
ketch  into  the  harbor  and  would  have  followed  and 
cut  her  out,  if  the  inhabitants  had  not  risen  in  force. 
In  Cape  Cod  Bay  he  held  up  a  Pennsylvania  sloop 
that  was  such  poor  prey  he  let  her  go  scot  free;  but 
off  Falmouth  he  got  a  fine  stock  of  provisions  — • 
which  very  likely  was  needed  by  now  —  from  a  New 
London  boat.  Then  he  lay-to  for  several  days  in 
Tarpaulin  Cove  where,  at  last,  the  merry  cruise  was 
to  end.  Boston  was  sending  out  another  boat,  under 
command  of  one  Samuel  Pease,  with  instructions  to 
get  the  pirates  but,  again,  "to  prevent  ye  sheding  of 
blood  as  much  as  may  bee,"  and  with  better  luck  this 
time  for  the  avengers  of  the  law.  In  Tarpaulin  Cove 
they  surprised  the  pirate,  with  the  red  flag  at  her 
peak.  Shots  were  exchanged,  and  called  upon  to  strike 
to  the  King  of  England,  Pound  answered  in  true 
pirate  rodomontade.  "Standing  on  the  quarterdeck 


190  OLD  CAPE  COD 

with  his  naked  sword  in  his  hand  flourishing,  said, 
come  aboard,  you  Doggs,  and  I  will  strike  you  pres- 
ently, or  words  to  yt  purpose."  Firing  was  renewed, 
and  "after  a  little  space  we  saw  Pound  was  shot  and 
gone  off  the  deck."  Quarter  was  offered,  and  refused. 
"Ai  yee  dogs  we  will  give  you  quarter,"  yelled  the 
pirates.  Pease  was  also  wounded,  but  his  men  boarded 
the  pirate  sloop,  and  "forced  to  knock  them  downe 
with  the  but  end  of  our  muskets  at  last  we  quelled 
them,  killing  foure,  and  wounding  twelve,  two  re- 
maining pretty  well."  This  ended  the  Homeric  battle 
of  Tarpaulin  Cove.  Pease,  the  king's  captain,  died 
of  his  wounds,  and  offerings  were  made  in  church  for 
his  widow  and  orphans.  The  pirates  were  taken  to 
Boston  jail  where  they  were  visited  for  the  good  of 
their  souls  by  Judge  Sewall  and  Cotton  Mather.  In 
due  process  of  law  they  were  condemned  to  be  hanged 
on  indictments  for  piracy  and  murder.  But  the  sequel 
proved  that  fashion  and  the  elders,  whether  or  not  by 
reason  of  the  claims  of  consanguinity,  were  interested 
for  the  scapegraces.  Justice  was  appeased  by  the 
hanging  of  one  lame  man  of  humble  origin,  and  Pound 
was  taken  to  England,  where  later  he  was  made  cap- 
tain in  the  navy  and  died,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the 
odor  of  respectability.  Some  say  that  his  brief  piratical 
career  was  induced  by  politics  rather  than  a  criminal 
taste.  He  and  his  men  were  royalists,  it  was  said,  and, 
siding  with  Andros  in  the  colonial  quarrels,  meant  to 
draw  out  of  Boston  Harbor  for  their  pursuit  the  royal 
frigate  Rose  which  the  colonists  were  holding  there. 
But  if  that  were  their  game,  it  was  spoiled  by  the  send- 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  191 

ing  out  of  the  Province  sloop  under  Captain  Pease  and 
the  genuine  fight  at  Wood's  Hole.  In  any  case  the  Sa- 
lem and  New  London  boats  they  had  looted  were  not 
disposed,  probably,  to  distinguish  them  from  pirates. 
A  close  perusal  of  the  "Pirate's  Own  Book,"  pub- 
lished at  Portland  in  1859,  would  no  doubt  reveal 
further  adventures  involving  Cape  Cod;  and  in  1717, 
at  any  rate,  there  was  an  encounter  with  pirates  off 
the  "Back  Side"  that  was  brought  to  a  successful  con- 
clusion by  the  wit  of  a  Cape  Cod  seaman.  The  Whidah, 
Samuel  Bellamy,  captain,  of  some  two  hundred  tons 
burden  with  an  equipment  of  twenty-three  guns  and 
one  hundred  and  thirty  men,  while  cruising  offshore 
had  the  good  fortune,  which  turned  to  ill,  to  take  seven 
prizes.  Seven  prize  crews  were  put  aboard  to  take 
the  vessels  to  port  there,  presumably,  to  sell  them  at 
a  price.  The  master  of  one,  seeing  that  his  captors  were 
drunk,  took  his  boat  straight  into  Provincetown  and 
gave  the  pirate  crew  into  custody.  Nor  was  their  chief 
to  meet  a  better  fate.  One  of  his  prizes  was  a  "snow," 
and  seeing  a  storm  coming  up,  he  offered  its  skipper 
the  boat  intact  if  he  would  pilot  the  Whidah  safe 
around  to  Provincetown  Harbor.  The  bargain  struck, 
a  lantern,  as  guide,  was  hung  in  the  snow's  rigging. 
Some  say  the  skipper,  trusting  to  the  lighter  draft  of 
his  boat,  ran  her  straight  for  shore,  the  heavy  pirate 
craft  floundering  after;  another  story  has  it  that  he 
put  out  his  mast-light  and  flung  a  burning  tar-barrel 
overboard  to  float  ashore  and  lure  the  Whidah  to  her 
doom.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  sequel  was  successful. 
The  Whidah  and  two  of  her  attendant  ships  were 


192  OLD  CAPE  COD 

dashed  on  shore  near  Nauset,  and  only  two  men  of 
the  crews,  an  Englishman  and  an  Indian,  escaped 
drowning.  As  for  the  storm,  it  was  sufficiently  heavy 
to  furrow  out  the  first  Cape  Cod  Canal,  the  ocean 
making  a  clean  break  across  the  Cape  near  the  Or- 
leans line,  and  "  it  required  a  great  turnout  of  the  peo- 
ple and  great  efforts  to  close  it  up."  Captain  Cyprian 
Southack,  sent  from  Boston  to  inspect  the  wreck  and 
landing  on  the  bay  shore,  refers  in  his  report  to  "the 
place  where  I  came  through  with  a  Whale  Boat,"  and 
adds  that  he  buried  "one  Hundred  and  Two  Men 
Drowned."  Having  buried  the  pirates,  Southack  set  a 
watch  over  their  property,  and  had  some  complaint 
to  make  of  the  inhabitants,  who  came  from  twenty 
miles  around  to  share  in  the  spoils.  As  usual,  there 
seems  to  have  been  a  clash  between  government  and 
individual  rights;  but  Southack  advertising  retribu- 
tion for  any  private  profiteers,  several  cartloads  of  the 
stores  were  retrieved  and  sent  to  Boston.  And  there  is 
a  story  of  the  right  pirate  cast  in  regard  to  a  man 
"very  singular  and  frightful"  in  aspect  who,  every 
season  for  many  years  after,  used  to  revisit  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  wreck.  Taciturn  and  uncommunica- 
tive in  his  waking  hours,  his  dreams  were  perturbed 
as  needs  must  be,  and  then  such  ribald  and  profane 
words  passed  his  lips  as  proved  him  in  league  with 
evil  spirits  with  whom  he  communed  on  past  bloody 
deeds.  Plainly  he  was  the  one  English  survivor  of  the 
Whidah  returned  to  the  scene  to  dig  for  buried  treas- 
ure; and  to  prove  the  case,  when  he  died  a  belt  filled 
with  gold  was  found  on  his  person. 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  193 

In  1772  there  was  a  pirate  story  less  well  authen- 
ticated which  served  chiefly  as  a  bone  to  worry  be- 
tween Tory  and  Whig.  A  schooner  flying  signals  of 
distress  was  boarded  off  Chatham,  and  the  single  sea- 
man found  there,  appearing  "very  much  frightened," 
said  that  armed  men  in  four  boats  had  overhauled  the 
craft  and  murdered  the  master,  mate,  and  a  seaman; 
himself  he  had  saved  by  hiding.  He  supposed  the  men, 
he  cunningly  said,  came  from  a  royal  cruiser,  a  story 
ridiculous  on  the  face  of  it.  At  any  rate,  a  royal  cruiser, 
the  Lively,  under  command  of  Montague,  the  admiral 
who  had  advised  the  two  Truro  captains  to  undertake 
their  whaling  voyage  to  the  Falklands,  set  out  in 
pursuit  of  a  possible  pirate,  with  no  result;  and  the  up- 
shot was  that  the  whole  story  was  suspected  to  be  an 
invention  of  the  survivor  to  conceal  his  own  guilt. 
The  jury  sitting  in  the  case  disagreed,  and  in  the 
fevered  state  of  public  opinion,  it  was  used  in  mutual 
recriminations  by  Whig  and  Tory:  the  Wliigs  con- 
tending that  the  English  navy  had  committed  the 
footless  outrage,  the  Tories,  more  reasonably,  that 
the  seaman  was  a  liar  and  murderer.  But  controversy 
could  not  restore  the  dead,  who  had  all  hailed  from 
Chatham. 

The  Cape,  as  it  reached  out  for  its  share  in  the 
commerce  that  developed  after  the  Revolution,  was 
as  intimately  concerned  in  pirate  adventures  off  the 
Spanish  Main  as  it  might  have  been  in  Cape  Cod 
Bay.  By  1822  our  shipping  was  so  harried  by  pirates 
in  those  southern  seas  that  the  Government  sent  out 
armed  boats  to  protect  our  merchantmen,  among  them 


194  OLD  CAPE  COD 

the  sloop-of-war  Alligator.  And  a  story,  in  which  the 
Alligator  is  concerned,  typical  of  many  another  of  the 
time,  is  told  by  one  of  the  last  of  the  old  Cape  Cod 
sea-captains  who  died  some  twenty  years  ago.  He 
sailed ,  as  cabin  boy,  for  the  Spanish  Main  in  the 
brig  Iris  commanded  by  a  Brewster  man  and  carry- 
ing a  crew  of  eleven  and  one  passenger.  As  the  Iris 
neared  the  Antilles,  two  suspicious  ships  were  sighted, 
and  suspicion  turned  to  certainty  when  they  hoisted 
the  red  flag,  put  out  their  "sweeps,"  and  one  pirate 
made  for  the  Iris,  the  other  for  a  Yankee  schooner 
Matanzas-bound.  The  Iris  was  no  clipper,  and  was 
quickly  brought  to  by  a  shot  over  her  bow.  The  pas- 
senger and  captain  had  meantime  gone  down  to  the 
cabin  to  hide  their  valuables;  and  the  cabin  boy  also, 
he  tells  us,  "went  down  and  took  from  my  chest  a 
little  wallet,  with  some  artificial  flowers  under  a  crys- 
tal on  its  front,  in  which  were  three  dollars  in  paper 
money  and  a  few  coppers.  This  I  hid  in  the  bo'sun's 
locker  and  went  on  deck  again."  The  lapse  of  seventy 
years  had  not  dimmed  his  memory  of  the  orecious 
wallet. 

The  pirate  ship,  bristling  with  guns,  was  now  along- 
side, her  deck  crowded  with  men  dressed  in  white 
linen  and  broad  straw  hats,  quite  like  Southern  gen- 
tlemen, and  soon  a  yawl  filled  with  men  armed  to  the 
teeth  put  off  from  her  side.  The  Iris,  with  forced 
courtesy,  lowered  a  gangway  for  their  reception,  and 
six  of  the  strangers  climbed  on  deck.  Their  leader  in- 
quired of  the  cargo,  and  was  told  that  the  Iris  was 
practically  in  ballast. 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  195 

"Have  you  any  provisions  to  spare?  We're  a 
privateer  out  for  pirates.  Seen  any?"  asked  the 
officer. 

"No,"  answered  the  captain,  looking  him  in  the 
eye.  "I  can  let  you  have  some  salt  beef  and  pork." 

The  play  at  civility  was  soon  ended,  the  ship 
searched,  and  the  stranger,  reappearing  on  deck 
dressed  out  in  the  captain's  best  clothes,  cried  jovially : 
"Well,  sirs,  we're  pirates,  and  you're  our  prisoners." 

The  Iris  under  her  new  command  tacked  back  and 
forth  toward  the  shore,  and  the  prize  crew  found  some 
rum  for  their  refreshment,  and  thought,  by  threaten- 
ing the  cabin  boy,  to  find  treasure  concealed  in  the 
ship.  Trembling,  he  climbed  up  to  the  locker,  and 
produced  his  wallet,  but  so  far  from  being  placated  by 
this  offering  one  pirate  knocked  him  down  and  made 
as  if  to  skewer  him  with  a  cutlass,  while  another 
vowed  to  throw  him  overboard.  Then  they  ordered 
him  off  to  bed,  and  he  crept  into  the  sailroom.  Next 
morning  all  were  called  up  to  man  ship,  and  captor 
and  prize  beat  down  the  coast  to  "Point  Jaccos" 
where  the  boats  lay -to  and  the  pirates  spent  the  night 
in  drinking  and  the  Yankees  in  keeping  out  of  their 
way.  The  captain  and  the  cabin  boy  hid  under  the 
longboat.  In  the  morning  they  put  into  a  bay,  a  true 
pirate  rendezvous,  with  mangroves  growing  down  to 
the  water's  edge.  The  cargo  was  transferred  to  the 
pirate  ship,  and  their  captain,  boarding  the  Iris,  or- 
dered his  officer  to  get  money  from  the  Yankees  or 
kill  all  hands  and  burn  the  brig.  But  the  Yankees  un- 
derstood his  Spanish,  and  Captain  Mayo,  averring 


196  OLD  CAPE  COD 

still  that  he  had  no  money  aboard,  offered  if  the 
pirates  would  send  him  into  Matanzas  to  return  with 
any  ransom  they  should  name. 

"Very  good,"  said  the  pirate.  "I  give  you  three 
days.  If  you  are  n't  back  then  with  six  thousand  dol- 
lars, I'll  kill  all  the  crew  and  fire  the  brig." 

Then  they  gave  him  back  his  best  clothes  and  his 
watch,  and  put  him  aboard  a  passing  fishing-smack 
with  orders  to  land  him  at  Matanzas.  There  he  was 
not  too  generously  received,  and  all  but  despairing  of 
help,  as  he  walked  on  the  quay  next  morning  he  spied 
an  American  man-of-war  coining  in  —  a  schooner  with 
fourteen  guns  and  well  manned  —  in  short,  the  Alliga- 
tor. Captain  Mayo  aboard,  the  Alligator  put  about, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  with  no  time  to 
spare,  sighted  the  pirate  rendezvous  and  four  vessels 
at  anchor,  the  two  pirates,  the  Iris,  and  the  schooner 
that  had  been  Matanzas-bound,  her  fellow-prisoner. 
The  pirates  were  brave  fighters  of  unarmed  men,  but 
had  no  taste  for  warships.  At  sight  of  the  Alligator, 
the  men  on  one  boat  fired  a  gun  to  warn  their  com- 
rades on  the  prizes,  took  to  their  sweeps  and  made  off 
to  sea.  The  Yankees  on  the  Iris  had  been  confined  in 
fo'c's'le  and  cabin,  and  were  awaiting  with  some  per- 
turbation the  dawn  of  the  third  day  that  was  to  bring 
them  Captain  Mayo  and  the  ransom  or  death,  when 
they  were  startled  by  a  cannon  shot  that  was  succeeded 
by  a  stillness  above  decks.  Rushing  up,  they  saw  their 
captors  making  off,  the  first  pirate  schooner  showing 
a  clean  pair  of  heels  well  out  at  sea,  the  second  round- 
ing the  harbor  point  with  three  boats  in  chase.  The 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  197 

sun  rode  high  in  the  heavens,  the  sea  was  like  glass, 
and  it  seems  that  Lieutenant  Allen,  of  the  Alligator, 
unable  to  handle  his  vessel  in  the  calm  and  eager  to 
secure  at  least  one  of  the  pirates,  had  attacked  from 
his  small  boats,  with  disastrous  results.  The  pirate 
escaped,  he  himself  was  mortally  wounded,  several  of 
his  men  were  wounded,  and  a  retreat  was  ordered  to 
the  Alligator,  which  withdrew,  Captain  Mayo  and 
the  ransom  still  aboard,  without  further  casualties. 
But  the  second  pirate  craft  remained,  a  speck  to  the 
sight,  at  the  head  of  the  bay,  and  as  the  cabin  boy 
was  pouring  coffee  for  the  meal  that  had  been  laid  on 
the  quarterdeck,  a  boat  was  seen  to  put  off  from  her  and 
pull  toward  the  Iris.  The  Iris  hailed  her  sister  cap- 
tive, the  Matanzas  schooner,  which  begged  her  to 
take  off  the  crew  when  they  would  make  common 
cause  against  the  pirate.  Nothing  was  more  certain 
than  that  the  boat  that  swiftly  drew  nearer  was  intent 
on  their  destruction.  The  first  mate  of  the  Iris  and 
one  sailor  jumped  into  a  boat  and,  pulling  for  the 
schooner,  took  off  her  crew,  but  instead  of  returning, 
made  for  the  shore.  Now,  indeed,  all  seemed  lost  for  the 
hapless  men  and  the  boy  aboard  the  Iris.  He  and  the 
sailors  fled  for  the  hold,  while  on  deck  the  second  mate 
and  the  passenger  awaited  what  should  come.  The 
pirates,  once  aboard,  slashed  at  the  mate  and  threw 
him  overboard,  the  sailors  were  haled  on  deck  and 
forced  to  run  for  their  lives,  forward  and  aft,  the 
pirates  cutting  at  them  as  they  ran.  Poor  Crosby,  the 
mate,  half  drowned  and  weak  from  loss  of  blood, 
clambered  aboard  again,  sank  down  on  the  windlass, 


198  OLD  CAPE  COD 

and  gasped  out:  "Now,  then,  kill  me  if  you  like." 
Perhaps  thinking  him  worth  a  ransom,  the  pirates 
ordered  him  into  their  small  boat  alongside. 

Meantime  the  boy,  half  dead  with  terror,  had 
stowed  himself  away  in  a  corner  of  the  hold;  nor  was 
his  terror  lessened  at  the  appearance  of  a  pirate,  cut- 
lass in  hand,  slashing  right  and  left  in  the  darkness. 
He  was  about  to  cry  for  mercy  when  the  man  gave  up 
his  search;  and  an  old  sailor,  who  had  been  pals  with 
the  boy,  now  advised  him  to  go  boldly  on  deck  as  the 
pirates  were  sure  to  have  him  in  the  end,  and  in  any 
case  were  likely  to  burn  the  brig.  No  sooner  was  he 
there  than  the  pirates  began  a  cruel  game,  making  a 
circle  about  him,  cutting  at  him  with  their  swords, 
some  crying  to  kill  him,  others  to  let  him  go,  he  was 
only  a  boy.  They  called  for  powder;  he  told  them 
there  was  none.  They  called  for  fire;  he  told  them 
he  could  get  none.  They  threw  a  demijohn  at  him 
and  told  him  to  fetch  them  water.  They  knew  well 
they  had  finished  the  rum.  As  the  boy  went  below, 
he  met  his  old  sailor,  who,  offering  to  fetch  the 
water,  turned  back,  and  was  seen  no  more.  The  boy, 
reappearing,  was  ordered  into  the  boat  where  the 
wounded  mate,  the  passenger,  and  the  sailors  were 
already  seated,  the  pirate  muskets  piled  up  astern, 
and  a  pirate  standing  there  on  guard.  The  mate, 
seeing  his  chance,  heaved  the  pirate  overboard,  and 
pushed  off.  The  pirates  on  deck  pelted  the  boat  with 
anything  at  hand,  but  the  Yankees  had  all  their  fire- 
arms. And  Crosby,  seizing  a  musket,  cried:  "There, 
damn  you,  throw  away!"  The  Yankees  bent  to  their 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  199 

oars.  "Are  we  all  here?"  cried  Crosby  to  his  men.  But 
the  old  sailor  who  had  gone  to  get  the  water  was 
missing.  They  pulled  up  at  a  safe  distance,  hoping  in 
vain  that  he  might  jump  overboard,  and  then,  when 
needs  must,  made  for  Matanzas,  rowing  along  shore 
to  provide  for  escape  in  case  of  pursuit,  a  distance 
they  supposed  of  some  thirty -five  miles.  A  freshening 
breeze  favored  them,  and  by  nightfall  they  made  the 
harbor,  rowing  in  with  muffled  oars  as  they  wished  to 
avoid  Spanish  vessels  there  and  the  fort.  They  were 
soon  hailed  by  a  friendly  English  voice,  clambered 
aboard  ship,  the  captain  there  got  out  his  medicine 
chest  and  dressed  their  wounds,  the  sailors  spread 
their  mattresses  on  deck,  and  the  refugees  "lay  down 
to  such  peace  and  rest,"  said  the  cabin  boy,  "as  you 
may  well  appreciate."  As  for  the  ill-fated  Alligator, 
having  returned  to  Matanzas  with  her  dead  and 
wounded,  she  was  ordered  to  Charlestown  with  the 
boats  she  had  captured  on  her  cruise,  and  the  second 
night  out  grounding  on  a  Florida  reef,  which  has  been 
named  for  her,  was  lost.  The  captain  of  the  Iris,  in 
the  general  settlement  at  the  home  port,  bought  for 
each  of  his  crew,  as  a  memento  of  their  adventure,  a 
pirate  musket  and  a  pirate  sword. 

Cape  Cod  sailors  were  in  like  degree,  and  with  vary- 
ing success,  using  their  wits  to  elude  pirates  of  the 
farther  seas,  swift  Chinese  lorchas,  and  low-hung 
craft  in  the  Malay  Straits.  A  Truro  captain,  com- 
manding the  Southern  Cross,  was  shot  by  pirates  in 
the  China  Sea  in  the  presence  of  his  wife.  A  Falmouth 
whaling  captain,  by  his  skill  and  coolness,  saved  his 


200  OLD  CAPE  COD 

men  from  massacre  by  natives  of  the  Marshall  Is- 
lands. A  Dennis  captain,  in  1820,  had  been  murdered 
by  pirates  off  Madeira.  Another  Dennis  captain,  of 
the  barque  Lubra,  lost  his  life  as  late  as  1865,  when, 
one  day  out  of  Hong  Kong,  he  was  overhauled  by  so 
large  a  force  of  pirates  that  resistance  was  hopeless. 
Some  of  the  crew  took  to  the  rigging,  and  two  of 
them  were  shot  there;  others  jumped  overboard  and 
were  picked  up  by  the  pirates,  who  boarded  the 
barque  and  proceeded  to  ansack  her.  The  captain, 
whom  they  found  in  the  cabin  with  his  wife  and 
child,  they  shot  dead.  Then,  having  stolen  all  val- 
uables, destroyed  the  boats  and  nautical  instru- 
ments, and  set  fire  to  the  ship,  they  made  off,  leav- 
ing the  crew  to  their  fate.  But  with  true  Cape  Cod 
pluck,  the  survivors  of  the  tragedy  managed  to  save 
the  ship  and  somehow  navigated  her  back  to  Hong 
Kong. 

They  were  now  sailing  seas  the  world  over,  these 
Cape  Cod  men:  farmers,  fishermen,  whalers  as  they 
had  been,  they  were  manning  merchant  ships  that 
were  carrying  the  American  flag  into  every  port.  Yet 
from  the  first  they  had  furnished  some  seamen  for  the 
traders:  for  as  early  as  1650,  it  is  said,  both  at  Saint 
Christopher's  and  Barbadoes,  "New  England  produce 
was  in  great  demand";  and  Gorhams  and  Dimmocks 
of  Barnstable  had  acquired  fortunes  in  the  coasting 
and  West  Indies  trade.  An  interesting  little  industry, 
in  addition  to  fishing  on  the  Banks,  was  carried  on  by 
a  few  boats  that  were  fitted  out  to  go  to  the  Labrador 
coast  to  collect,  on  the  rocky  islands  offshore,  feathers 


STORMS  AND  PIRATES  v  201 

and  eider-down  for  the  Cape  Cod  housewives.  There, 
in  the  nesting-season,  were  held  great  battues,  when 
the  birds  were  killed  wholesale  with  clubs  or  brooms 
made  of  spruce  branches.  Rich  tells  us  that  the  sack 
that  left  home  filled  with  straw  returned  filled  with 
down  for  bed  and  pillows,  "the  latter  called  'pillow 
bears,'  and  apostrophized  by  the  old  people  as 
'pille'bers.'  "  Mountainous  beds  of  feathers  or  down 
were  then  in  order,  and  "boys  used  to  joke  about 
rigging  a  jury-mast  and  rattle  down  the  shrouds  to 
climb  into  bed."  Two  Barnstable  men,  we  know, 
coopers  and  farmers  by  trade,  went  on  some  of  these 
"feather  voyages,"  which,  however,  were  not  long 
continued,  as  the  merciless  slaughter  made  the  birds 
wary  of  their  old  haunts. 

As  early  as  1717  hundreds  of  ships  in  the  year 
were  clearing  from  Boston  and  Salem  for  Newfound- 
land and  "British  plantations  on  the  continent,"  for 
"foreign  plantations,"  and  the  West  Indies  and  the 
Bay  of  Campeachy,  for  European  ports  and  Madeira 
and  the  Azores.  And  when  all  Europe  was  exhausted 
by  the  Napoleonic  struggle,  the  United  States,  neu- 
tral and  safe  three  thousand  miles  away,  snapped  up 
the  carrying  trade  of  the  world;  from  fish  cargoes 
for  the  hungry  combatants  the  transition  was  easy  to 
more  varied  commodities.  Their  own  wars,  French 
and  English,  had  been  good  training  schools  for  men 
of  enterprise,  and  immediately  the  Cape  Cod  sailors 
were  to  prove  their  mettle  in  this  new  era  of  adven- 
ture. They  bought  shares  in  the  ships  they  sailed,  and 
profited,  and  bought  more.  Some  of  them,  shrewd 


202  ;.  OLD  CAPE  COD 

traders  by  instinct,  gave  up  the  sea  for  an  office 
ashore,  and  as  East  India  merchants  laid  the  secure 
foundation  of  more  than  one  snug  urban  fortune  that 
survives  to-day. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

OLD  SEA  WAYS 

i 

SIXTY  years  ago  the  thread  snapped  in  that  fine  sea- 
piece  of  the  American  foreign  trade,  and  now  the  call- 
ing and  time  of  those  deep-water  sailors  are  dead  as 
Nineveh.  But  Old  Cape  Cod  was  one  with  the  illimit- 
able seas  and  the  spot  most  loved  by  men  for  whom 
the  ocean  was  a  workroom  where  fortunes  m'ght  be 
made  to  spend  at  home.  No  picture  of  these  men 
could  be  complete  without  the  background  of  their  life 
afloat.  For  five  decades  Yankee  ships  were  weaving  at 
the  great  loom  of  the  Western  Ocean  to  set  the  splen- 
did colors  of  European  adventure  into  new  patterns 
of  romance.  Their  tea-frigates  raced  around  the 
"Cape"  to  the  Far  East;  they  took  the  short  cut 
about  Scotland  to  bargain  with  Kronstadt  and  Ham- 
burg and  Elsinore;  barques  and  brigantines  and  full- 
riggers  caught  the  "brave  west  winds"  at  the  right 
slant  and  made  record  voyages  past  old  Leeuwin,  the 
Cape  of  Storms,  standing  out  there  to  give  them  a 
last  toss  as  they  "ran  down  by  "  to  Port  Philip  and 
"Melbun"  and  Sydney;  clipper  ships,  the  fastest 
under  sail  that  have  ever  been  known,  winged  their 
way  around  to  "Frisco"  in  the  great  days  of  '49. 
Cargoes  sold  there  at  a  fabulous  price,  and  then, 
short-handed,  perhaps,  because  of  desertion  to  the 


204  OLD  CAPE  COD 

gold-fields,  the  great  ships  rushed  by  San  Diego  and 
Callao,  rich  ports  enough  for  other  times,  and,  storm 
or  shine,  swung  'round  the  Horn, 

"...  the  fine  keen  bows  of  the  stately  clippers  steering 
Towards  the  lone  northern  star  and  the  fair  ports  of  home," 

to  load  again,  and  return  by  the  path  they  had  come. 
Yankee  captains  who  crowded  on  sail  every  hour 
in  the  twenty-four  had  soon  out-raced  stolid  John 
Company's  ships  in  the  Far  East;  but  back  in  the 
seventeen-hundreds,  before  Maury  had  written  on 
nav  gation,  they  thanked  England  for  their  sailing 
texts,  and  notably  the  "English  Pilot,"  printed  by 
Messrs  Mount  &  Page  on  Tower  Hill,  to  show  "the 
Courses  and  Distances  from  one  Place  to  another, 
the  Ebbing  and  Flowing  of  the  Sea,  the  Setting  of 
Tides  and  Currents."  "We  shall  say  no  more,"  cry 
Mount  &  Page,  "but  let  it  commend  itself,  and  all 
knowing  Mariners  are  desired  to  lend  their  Assist- 
ance and  Information  towards  the  perfecting  of  this, 
useful  work."  Every  inch  of  water  is  charted,  the 
land  invites  with  names  of  eld;  the  black  letterpress, 
with  the  long  lisping  s,  tells  of  the  great  Western 
Ocean,  water  and  rim,  from  Barbary  to  Hispaniola, 
from  Frobisher's  Meta  Incognita  to  the  "Icey  Sea" 
of  the  Far  South.  There  are  burning  mountains  and 
cliffs,  castles  and  towns,  treacherous  rocks  and  tides; 
and  west  of  a  certain  "white  mount"  on  Darien  three 
peaks  are  sharply  etched,  and  the  legend,  "Here 
hath  been  Gold  found."  Due  regard  is  had  to  eastern 
and  western  variation,  and  the  line  of  no  variation  at 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  205 

all  that  springs  from  the  coast  of  Florida;  and  it 
should  be  noted  that  Sir  Thomas  Smith's  Sound  is 
"most  admirable  in  this  respect,  because  there  is  in  it 
the  greatest  variation  of  the  compass,  that  is  in  any 
part  of  the  world,  as  was  discovered  ...  by  divers 
good  observations  made  by  that  judicious  artist 
Captain  Baffin."  One  Captain  Davis,  no  less  judi- 
cious, had  observed  the  same  phenomenon  on  his 
third  voyage  to  the  North  in  the  year  1587.  And 
those  who  sailed  the  Western  Ocean  had  learned 
painfully  other  facts  than  variations  of  the  compass : 
the  sharp  path  about  the  doldrums,  the  way  of  Gulf 
Stream  and  trades,  and  of  the  great  west  winds  that 
sent  them  bowling  along  through  the  Roaring  Forties. 
From  the  beginning  of  things  men  of  the  Old 
World,  with  the  salt  of  adventure  in  their  blood,  had 
passed  "the  forelands  of  the  tideless  sea"  to  look 
upon  the  green  distances  beyond;  those  more  greatly 
daring  had  swept  through  the  gate  and  brought  back 
stories  of  the  Hesperides.  Phoenicians  seeking  trade, 
ocean  thieves  their  prey,  poet  adventurers  they  knew 
not  what,  had  sighted  on  the  Barbary  Coast  the 
"Pilot's"  "little  Hommock  which  appeareth  like  a 
Castle,"  and  sailed  perhaps  down  by  Arzille  and 
Lavrache,  Fedale  and  Azamoor,  names  of  sorcery 
with  the  soft  purr  of  Eastern  tongues.  Another  and 
another  slipped  by  Spartel,  "shooting  far  into  the 
Sea,  the  very  Point  guarded  with  a  Rock,"  the 
"Pilot"  tells  us,  and  circled  northward  through 
stormy  cross-currents  to  Britain,  or  southward  by  the 
treacherous  coasts  where  "the  grown  Sea  cometh 


206  OLD  CAPE  COD 

rowling  in  so  hard."  Then  sailors,  north  and  south, 
put  the  land  behind  them,  and  turned  their  prows 
due  west:  here  lay  the  great  adventure  for  men  who 
loved  to  play  at  chance,  and  they  won,  beyond 
dreams,  a  new  world.  Norsemen,  Portuguese,  Basque, 
and  Briton  found,  not  Cathaia,  but  the  fishing-banks 
of  Newfoundland,  or  boundless  forests  where  men 
might  be  free,  or  those  magic  islands  of  the  South 
where  Spain  was  the  first  to  gather  her  fleet  of  plate- 
ships  for  the  homeward  run  to  Cadiz,  where  secret 
landlocked  harbors  sheltered  evil,  and  simple  natives, 
bearing  gifts,  were  kidnapped  for  their  pains.  Other 
mariners,  whose  thirst  for  gold  was  not  to  be  slaked 
with  a  New  World,  made  for  the  Far  East  by  the 
Cape  of  "Buena  Esperanza."  Slipping  down  the 
coast  of  Africa  beyond  Blanco,  they  skirted  a  sullen 
coast  where  the  shore  is  broken  by  distorted  trees  and 
rocks  and  the  mouths  of  great  rivers  that  cast  their 
freight  from  the  sinister  entrails  of  the  land  far  out 
into  a  protesting  ocean. 

These  men,  and  others,  nameless  and  forgotten 
mariners,  with  a  keen  eye  for  coast  configuration  and 
accurate  soundings,  made  calculations  and  drawings 
and  passed  them  on  to  their  mates,  until  Messrs. 
Mount  &  Page  winnowed  out  something  of  the  truth 
of  it  all  and  constructed  their  "English  Pilot."  And 
now  should  you  devise  a  voyage  about  the  seas  of  old 
romance,  here  is  the  chart  for  your  venture.  Swash- 
buckler pirates  sailed  this  way,  and  discreet  men  who 
would  elude  them;  slavers  skulked  down  malign 
African  coasts;  clean,  hardy  voyagers,  who  sought 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  207 

only  glory  and  the  Northwest  Passage,  battered 
frail  ships  against  the  everlasting  barriers  of  ice;  ad- 
venturers in  quest  of  gold  worked  their  way  down  the 
Spanish  Main;  and,  turn  about,  our  fine  young  sea- 
men of  the  New  World  wrung  their  vantage  from  the 
Old. 

A  certain  navigator  from  the  Cape,  we  know,  used 
his  "Pilot"  on  sober  trading  voyages  to  the  West 
Coast  of  Africa,  or  London,  or  the  Spanish  Main, 
and  sailing  days  over  pushed  his  great  sea-chest  back 
under  the  eaves  of  the  trim  house  he  had  built  after  a 
rich  voyage  to  Russia.  He  had  sailed  for  pure  love  of 
churning  blue  water,  and  the  sweep  of  wind  through 
the  rigging,  and  great  clean  distances,  and  a  fine 
manly  sense  of  mastering  the  tools  of  fate :  wind  and 
water  and  cloud,  and  men,  and  the  job  of  making  a 
good  trade.  Yet  never  had  he  been  at  sea  that  he 
was  not  homesick  for  the  land,  and  his  adventurous 
youth  was  no  more  than  the  price  he  paid  for  plenty 
ashore.  He  had  met  chance  as  it  came  and  turned  it  to 
gold;  and  here  in  the  "Pilot,"  forgotten  for  a  genera- 
tion in  the  cavernous  depths  of  his  worm-eaten  coffer, 
were  notes  for  the  story  he  had  been  too  simple  to 
read  as  romance.  Its  worn  leather  covers  open  out 
comfortably,  and  within,  a  cabin  boy,  perhaps,  idling 
about  while  the  master  was  on  deck,  had  scrawled 
"Sloop  Maremad  of  Boston,"  and  for  another  try 
"The  Sloop  Mairmad,"  and  knew  his  hornbook  no 
better  than  a  merman.  Some  leaves  are  burned 
through  by  a  coal  that  smouldered  there  how  many 
years  ago,  on  this  good  sloop  Mermaid,  at  a  guess,  in 


208  OLD  CAPE  COD 

the  year  1789,  and  silver-moths  now  plunge  among 
the  pages  like  cachalots  in  southern  seas. 

When  the  captain  had  set  out  for  Africa,  with  a 
cargo  of  cloth,  iron  kettles,  and  such-like  trifles  to 
barter  for  ivory  and  gold,  the  "Pilot,"  by  word  and 
chart,  painted  the  chances  before  him.  Over  there 
among  the  Cape  Verdes  lay  Saint  Jago,  "rich  in  prod- 
ucts, so  that  were  it  not  for  the  continual  Rains  in 
the  Times  of  the  Travadoes,  which  render  it  unpleas- 
ant to  the  Inhabitants,  it  would  without  doubt  be 
as  delightsome  an  Island  as  any  in  the  world";  and 
Garrichica,  in  the  Canaries,  is  no  winter  port,  for 
then  "the  grown  Sea  out  of  the  North  West  comes 
running  in  there  sometimes  so  forcible  and  strong, 
that  it  is  not  possible  to  hold  a  Ship,  although  she 
had  ten  Anchors  out."  South  and  east  now  the  sullen 
mainland  lowers,  and  there  "lying  under  the  Tropick 
of  Cancer,"  is  a  country  "high  and  stony,  so  that 
there  is  nothing  to  be  had  hereabouts,  .  .  .  and  with 
the  Sun's  heat,  continuing  sometimes  thirty  and 
forty  Days  together  ...  it  is  so  intolerable  hot  in  the 
Valleys,  that  it  blinds  and  deafens  those  that  travel 
this  Way."  But  knowing  skippers  that  "sail  near  this 
Coast,  pass  along,  none  go  a-shore,  for  't  is  not  worth 
their  while."  At  a  shoal  called  "the  Goulden  Bark, 
much  Fish  is  taken  at  sometimes  of  the  Year,"  and 
there's  trading  at  last  on  "the  great  River  Senega": 
"several  Commodities,  as  Amber,  Elephants  Teeth, 
with  Abundance  of  Wax  and  Skins."  But  on  Serbera 
is  the  Traders'  Paradise,  whose  delights  the  "Pilot" 
accentuates  by  a  printer's  slip:  "When  you  come 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  209 

into  the  heaven,  you  may  anchor  where  you  will,  but 
commonly  they  run  towards  Madra  Bombo,  as  being 
the  chief  Place  for  Traffic;  though  there  is  Merchan- 
dizing on  the  Right  Side  of  the  River,  where  you  may 
run  with  Sloops  and  Boats.  The  Place  affords  all 
Varieties  of  Refreshment,  as  Hens,  Rice,  Lemons, 
Apples,  with  several  merchantable  Commidities." 

Happy  Madra  Bombo!  thrice  happy  Trader!  And 
let  him  refresh  himself  well  before  proceeding  to  the 
unfriendly  Coast  of  Malegate  where  the  "Rains  be- 
gins with  May,  and  continues  till  October;  during 
which  time,  they  have  great  and  terrible  Thunder 
and  Lightning,"  and  "  mountainous  Billows  rowl  to 
the  Shore,  so  that  'tis  in  effect  impossible  to  approach 
the  same  in  Boats,  without  danger  of  splitting.  But 
these  Seasons  once  over,  from  October  to  May,  the 
Weather  proves  pleasant  and  dry;  'till  indammaged 
by  the  fiery  Heat  of  the  scalding  Air." 

The  lean  coast  is  marked  by  trees  and  blasted 
rocks:  "a  high  tree  called  Arbor  de  Castacuis";  "a  few 
Trees,  appearing  like  Horsemen";  a  white  rock,  with 
a  look,  "afar  off,  like  a  Ship  under  Sail";  and  at 
Setra  Crue,  "high  and  bare  Trees  which  raise  them- 
selves in  the  Air  like  masts  of  Ships  laid  up";  and 
"on  a  Cliff  a  crooked  Tree  appearing  like  an  Um- 
brella." Slight  landmarks  for  a  man,  less  imaginative, 
perhaps,  than  the  "Pilot,"  who  shall  sweep  the  coast 
with  his  spyglass  and  debate  with  himself  whether  a 
grove  looks  rather  like  a  mizzen-sail  than  like  a  horse ; 
and  madness  for  the  skipper  to  whom  a  tree  is  but  a 
tree,  no  more,  no  less.  But  here  is  trading  again  with 


210  OLD  CAPE  COD 

the  Ivory  or  Tooth  Coast  and  the  "Gold  Coast  of 
Guiney,"  and  solid  English  forts  where  "incoming  off 
Seaward  .  .  .  you  must  brace  your  Sails  to  the  Mast, 
and  let  it  drive;  firing  off  a  Shot  as  a  Token  of  yield- 
ing before  the  Castle." 

Now  through  the  great  Bights  of  Benin  and  Biafra, 
and  all  along  to  Cape  Lopez  Gonzalez,  must  a  captain 
keep  a  sharp  weather  eye  to  "mind  which  way  the 
Travadoes  drive  the  Water,  for  the  Sea  Flowes  from 
whence  they  arise,"  and  be  ready  to  run  before  the 
tornado,  "which  when  you  see  it  it  is  best  to  hand  all 
your  Sail  except  your  Foresail  which  you  may  keep  in 
your  Brails  to  command  your  Ship."  But,  above  all, 
must  you  "weigh  with  all  Speed  and  get  off."  And 
these  are  the  sinister  coasts  where  men  were  sold  and 
bought;  brave  John  Hawkins  shamed  England  by 
trading  here;  Spain  and  America  loaded  the  scales 
that  must  be  balanced  with  blood.  "About  thirteen 
Leagues  up  River  Benin,  on  the  East-side  thereof, 
stands  the  great  Town  of  Gaton  or  Benin,  .  .  .  doubly 
pallisado'd  with  huge  thick  Trees,  and  on  the  other 
Side  't  is  strongly  fortified  with  a  great  Ditch  and  a 
Hedge  of  Brambles.  Here  the  King  of  Benin  keeps 
his  Court,  having  there  a  stately  Palace."  But  the 
high  words  cloak  a  reality  sordid  enough  when  the 
great  King  of  Benin  sat  in  his  house  of  logs  and  sold 
meat  for  the  slavers.  And  peril  lurks  here  at  every 
turn,  "for  the  Ground  is  so  very  foul,  and  the  In- 
habitants such  Brutes,  that  there  is  no  coming  near 
it."  Peril,  again,  in  possible  confusion  of  the  rivers 
Forcades  and  Lamas:  for  many  pilots,  thinking  they 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  211 

are  near  Forcades,  where  there  is  "Fairing  in  twelve 
Fathoms  good  Anchor-ground,"  make  for  Lamas, 
"running  into  it  till  they  become  shoal,  then  per- 
ceiving their  error,  but  too  late,  the  Ship  is  lost,  and 
the  Men  endeavouring  to  save  themselves  from  being 
swallowed  up  by  the  Sea  and  Mud,  are  devoured  and 
eaten  up  by  the  greedy  Negroes."  Such,  for  a  slaver, 
should  be  the  proper  adventure  of  the  river  Lamas. 
May  the  dinner  of  his  "greedy  Negroes"  sit  light! 

Slaves,  slaves,  and  more  slaves  are  all  the  "refresh- 
ment" here,  and  an  honest  Yankee  trader,  who  has 
exchanged  his  "silesia  linnen  and  basons"  for  ivory 
and  gold  dust,  best  be  off  for  home  by  way  of  the 
Amboises,  Fernando  Po,  and  Prince's  Island,  high, 
wooded,  beautiful,  and  "affording  good  Refreshment 
in  Abundance";  or,  down  by  Lopez,  the  "Island  An- 
nebon,"  where  "those  that  return  Home  from  the 
Cape  are  supplied  with  Abundance  of  choice  Oranges 
and  Pomegranates,  as  also  good  fresh  Water." 

II 

THE  "Pilot"  of  Messrs.  Mount  &  Page  was  contrived 
from  the  reports  of  some  who  "put  more  westing  into 
their  navigation"  to  sail  for  plunder  rather  than 
trade;  and  in  Volume  IV,  on  the  "West  India  Navi- 
gation from  Hudson's  Bay  to  the  River  Amazones," 
they  step  down  easily  from  Terre  de  Labrador,  where 
lay,  they  thought,  the  chance  of  that  short-cut  to 
Cathaia,  to  the  treasure-house  of  the  Spanish  Main. 
The  Yankee  captain,  laying  a  northern  course  to 
Europe  would  need  only  to  reverse  the  sequence  of 


212  OLD  CAPE  COD 

procedure  in  the  "Pilot's"  voyage  thence.  "When  a 
voyage  is  intended  from  the  river  Thames  to  those 
Northern  Parts  of  America,  you  may  go  out  of  the 
North  Channel  by  Scotland  or  else  through  the  West 
Channel  by  the  Lands  End  of  England,  according  as 
the  winds  may  favour  you."  Martin  Frobisher,  of  will 
as  stubborn  as  the  impenetrable  North,  had  set  sail 
by  the  West  Channel  to  prove  his  "plaine  platte" 
that  Frobisher's  Straits  should  make  a  broad  high- 
way to  the  East  by  the  other  way  round  of  the  world. 
He  sailed  by  Greenland,  where  "you  will  have  the  sea 
of  divers  colours,  in  some  places  green,  in  some  black, 
and  in  others  blue";  and  there  is  Cape  Desolation, 
"the  most  deformed  land  that  is  supposed  to  be  in  the 
whole  world,"  where  the  water  is  "black  and  thick, 
like  a  standing  pool."  It  was  Warwick  Sound  "where 
Sir  Martin  Frobisher  intended  to  lade  his  supposed 
gold  ore,"  says  the  "Pilot,"  and  within  his  "Streits" 
lies  "a  whirlpool  where  ships  are  whirled  about  in  a 
moment;  the  waters  making  a  great  noise  and  are 
heard  a  great  way  off." 

So  much  for  their  Meta  Incognita,  where  the  old 
mariners  dug  worthless  ore,  and  fished,  and  killed 
whale,  and  made  poor  trading  with  the  wretched 
natives;  and  never  breaking  through  to  Cathaia,  they 
were  swept  up  and  down,  among  "strange  rocks  and 
overfalls  and  shoals."  Caught  by  winter,  they  biv- 
ouacked somehow  in  the  snows,  and  in  June  nosed 
their  way  out  to  free  water,  or,  undiscouraged,  beat 
ahead  for  their  Northwest  Passage.  The  "Island  of 
God's  Mercy"  and  "Hold  with  Hope"  tell  of  some 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  213 

cockle-shell  sailor's  escape  from  "many  points  and 
headlongs"  and  "broken  ground  and  shoals,  worse 
than  can  be  expected."  Captain  Bayley,  Captain 
Zacchary  Gillam,  in  his  "Nonsuch  Ketch,"  Henry 
Southwood,  and  William  Taverner  cruised  here,  and 
their  findings  are  printed  in  the  "Pilot."  And  as  to 
Newfoundland  and  the  fishing-banks,  if  we  go  astray, 
it  is  by  our  own  obstinacy :  for  the  reporter  here  is  a 
peppery  old  party  who  "informs  those  that  are  bound 
for  that  coast  that  they  may  not  be  deceived,  as  I 
myself  had  been  like  to  have  been  in  going  to  Saint 
John's  on  the  29th  day  of  June,  1715,  at  8  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  .  .  .  having  been  just  a  month  that  very 
day  from  Plymouth  Sound,"  by  reason  of  "a  very 
great  error  in  those  charts  which  have  hitherto  been 
published."  And  he  sets  us  right  as  to  computing 
"the  true  Distance  between  the  Lizard  and  Cape 
Spear,"  where  other  navigators  "would  still  continue 
the  old  erroneous  Way;  because,  they  say,  when  I 
argu'd  with  them,  it  is  the  custom;  they  might  as  well 
have  persuaded  me,  that  old  custom  could  oversway 
Reason." 

Yankee  cruisers  to  the  southward  found  profitable 
advice,  again:  for  "such  as  are  bound  for  Virginia  or 
Maryland  will  find  many  times  on  the  coast  of  America 
various  winds  and  weathers,  and  streams  and  currents 
also,  therefore  they  must  take  the  more  care,  and  not 
trust  with  much  confidence  to  dead  reckoning."  (Mr. 
Rich  tells  us  of  one  Truro  skipper  who  "could  keep 
a  better  dead  reckoning  with  fewer  figures  than  any 
sailor  ever  known.  A  few  chalk  marks  on  the  cabin 


214  OLD  CAPE  COD 

door  or  at  the  head  of  his  berth,  and  he  knew  his 
position  on  the  Western  ocean,  whatever  wind  or 
weather,  as  well  as  if  in  his  father's  cornfield.")  "For 
by  experience,"  the  "Pilot"  goes  on  to  say,  "has  been 
found  sometimes  in  twenty-four  hours  such  currents 
as  hath  carried  them  either  to  the  Northward  or 
Southward,  contrary  to  the  reckoning  beyond  credit." 
But  we  are  off  for  the  Caribbees,  and  as  we  leave 
"those  northern  parts  of  America,"  Saint  Vincent  and 
Domenica,  Marygalante,  "Guardaloupa,"  and  all  the 
jewelled  drops  of  the  Antilles,  from  Bermuda  to  the 
Isle  of  Pearls,  slip  by  on  the  blue  ribbon  of  the  sum- 
mer seas;  and  the  wind,  whether  or  no,  veers  back  to 
the  "spacious  time  of  great  Elizabeth,"  when  Hak- 
luyt  is  the  master.  Yet  may  we  as  well  sail  by  the 
"Pilot,"  who  also  knows  "Franky  Drake,"  and  tells 
us  that  the  "Islands  of  the  Virgia  Gorda  were  ever 
accounted  dangerous,  but  we  find  by  the  worthy  Sir 
Francis  Drake,  in  his  relation  of  them,  that  they  were 
not  so,  who  sailed  through  and  among  them.  There  is 
good  shelter,  if  you  are  acquainted  with  going  in 
among  them,  for  many  hundred  sails  of  ships."  And 
here,  with  Drake,  sailed  Martin  Frobisher  to  recoup 
his  fortunes  blasted  by  the  north,  and  returned  to 
England  with  sixty  thousand  pounds  in  gold  and  two 
brass  cannon  as  profit. 

All  is  war  and  pillage,  surprise  and  counter-ma- 
noeuvre. On  Hispaniola,  over  against  the  two  islands 
Granive  and  Foul  Beard  in  the  Bay  of  Jaguana,  "the 
Spaniards  have  made  three  or  four  ways  through  the 
Krenckle  woods  against  time  of  war,  that  they  may 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  215 

convey  their  merchandise  thro'  the  same  woods  with- 
out being  discovered."  "In  a  little  bay  near  Cape 
Tiburon  the  English  used  to  lie,  waiting  for  the  Saint 
Domingo  fleet,  and  the  reason  why  they  laid  there 
was,  because  there  was  refreshment  to  be  had  from 
the  shore."  And  at  Veragua,  where  is  "good  fresh 
water,  and  almost  anything  you  want,"  we  hear  of 
Drake  again:  "It  is  said  that  on  this  island  Sir  Francis 
Drake  fell  ill  and  died,  and  was  there  buried."  But 
here  the  "Pilot"  trips,  for  Drake,  sick  with  rage  and 
disappointment,  died  when  the  fleet  lay  off  Porto 
Bello,  and  was  buried  from  his  ship.  There  are  treach- 
erous keys  among  the  islands  where  many  a  great  ship 
has  laid  her  bones;  the  Coffin  Key,  dreaded  of  sailors, 
where  after  sundown  walk  the  ghosts  of  murdered 
men;  and  quiet  little  bays  for  "cruizing  ships  to 
anchor,  when  they  want  to  heel  or  boot  top,  or  to  re- 
fit any  of  their  rigging."  Saona  is  "a  fruitful  island 
abounding  in  cassava  ...  so  that  it  hath  oftentimes 
been  to  the  Spaniards  as  a  granary  whereby  they  have 
been  sustained."  And  practical  directions  for  the 
navigator  run  with  the  allusion  to  old  report:  at 
Illuthera  you  may  look  out  for  two  white  cliffs  "called 
the  Alabasters";  "along  shore  you  will  see  a  hill 
resembling  a  Dutchman's  thumb  cap";  and  one 
Captain  Street  tells  of  the  "Colloradoes"  pricking 
out  "where  we  saw  to  the  eastward  of  us  three  hom- 
mocks  on  Cuba,"  with  "flocks  of  pelican  sitting  on  the 
red  white  sand."  "Take  this  one  more  observation  of 
the  Colloradoes,"  says  Captain  Street,  "when  you 
think  you  are  near  them,  keep  then  your  lead  going, 


216  OLD  CAPE  COD 

for  there  is  good  gradual  shoaling  on  them,  at  first 
coming  on  them,  excellent  sticking  oazy  ground  and 
then  sand." 

Down  the  slope  of  Campeachy  Bay  the  whole  coast 
is  fever-stricken  and  bare  of  all  comfort;  nor  is  there 
brook  or  fresh  water,  unless  you  dig  deep  in  the  sand, 
save  one  spring  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the 
shore,  where  "you  may  see  a  small  dirty  path  that 
leads  to  it  through  the  mangroves."  Forests  rise  from 
the  marshes,  rivers  skulk  behind  great  sandbars;  the 
place  smells  of  pirates,  and  their  light-draft  brigs 
thread  the  innumerable  salt  lagoons,  that  Laguna  of 
the  Tides,  perhaps,  where  "small  vessels,  as  barks, 
periagoes,  or  canoes  may  sail." 

Turning,  we  are  for  "the  Amazones,"  and  then 
back  again,  up  the  great  coast  of  the  mainland. 
Here  is  the  "Oronoque"  and  many  a  lesser  stream: 
the  Wannary,  "shallow,  craggy  and  foul,  the  land 
soft  and  quaggy,"  and  "therefore  thereabouts  not 
inhabited  but  with  that  vermin  Crocodile,  of  which 
there  are  in  this  place  abundance  " ;  and  the  Caperwaka 
with  an  island  in  it  where  there  is  rich  quarry  for 
fo'c's'le  hunters  —  "such  multitudes  of  parrots  and 
other  fine  feathered  fowls,  that  you  cannot  hear  each 
other  speak  for  their  noise;  there  are  many  apes  on 
this  island,  and  other  creatures,  which  I  omit  here  to 
mention."  At  the  lloca  Islands  "are  no  beasts  but 
some  few  fowls,  which  they  call  Flamingoes,  having 
long  legs  almost  like  storks,  with  orange-coloured 
feathers,  and  great  crooked  bills." 

All  along  to  Caracas  a  captain  must  be  on  the 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  217 

alert  because  of  "the  boisterous  winds  that  blow 
there,"  the  " Turnadoes,"  that  "cause  a  great  over- 
flowing of  water."  And  "the  land  is  very  high,  some 
say  as  high  as  Teneriffe.  You  have  there  an  extra- 
ordinary hollow  sea,  therefore  those  that  would  an- 
chor on  this  coast  do  best  to  run  a  little  westward  .  .  . 
where  you  may  lie  quiet  and  secure."  Down  through 
the  "Gulph  of  Venezula"  "the  country  is  full  of 
brooks  and  rivulets;  the  people,  ugly,  thin,  and  ill- 
favoured,  going  naked,  are  frightful  to  behold."  But 
"there  is  much  gold  brought  from  thence,  and  some 
costly  stones  of  several  virtues,"  and  "in  the  country 
are  many  tygers  and  bears."  Rio  de  la  Hacha,  as  we 
know,  was  "formerly  a  rich  place  by  reason  of  the 
pearl  fishing  and  other  trading.  On  the  east  side  of  the 
river  lies  a  bank  which  must  be  shunned,"  as  was 
successfully  accomplished  by  Captain  John  Hawkins 
when  he  outwitted  the  Don  and  watered  his  ship  at 
the  enemy's  wells  —  perhaps  that  Jesus  of  Lubec  he 
was  to  lose  by  Spanish  treachery  at  San  Juan  d'Ulloa. 
And  the  river  Trato,  with  its  mouth  blocked  by 
"march  land  and  Sea  Cows," runs  "South  a  long  way 
into  the  bowels  of  the  country  near  the  golden  mines 
of  Canea."  Gold  and  more  gold,  and  here,  in  the  old 
days,  was  bloody  work  done  by  Spain  which,  in  turn, 
was  pillaged  by  England  and  France.  One  Captain 
Long  made  a  smug  show  of  setting  up  "English  col- 
ours by  consent  of  the  Indian  natives,"  but  on  a  cer- 
tain reef  "Captain  Long  had  like  to  have  lost  His 
Majesty's  Ship  the  Rupert  prize."  And  between  the 
keys  called  the  Sambello  and  main  "used  to  be  the 


218  OLD  CAPE  COD 

rendezvous  of  the  French  buccaneers,"  as  off  Andero 
and  Catalina  "the  French  used  to  lie  with  their  pri- 
vateers and  plague  the  Spaniards  to  leeward,  espe- 
cially those  at  Porto  Bello  and  Nombre  de  Dios."  At 
Lake  Nicaragua  "is  a  thing  may  be  called  a  won- 
der; some  of  the  trees  can  scarcely  be  fathomed  by 
fifteen  men;  that  is  the  body  of  the  tree;  which  thing 
is  confirmed  by  many."  And  it  was  such  a  tree  that 
Drake  climbed  when  first  he  looked  upon  the  slow 
surge  of  the  Pacific  and  swore  the  oath  that  was  to 
disturb  Spain's  comfortable  looting  of  the  South 
Seas. 

Mexico  is  coasted  about  in  short  order.  An  island 
off  Vera  Cruz  comes  in  chiefly  for  "extraordinary 
remarks";  for  "in  this  place  the  Spanish  fleet  used  to 
lie,  and  bring  their  loading  from  all  parts,  until  the 
month  of  March,  from  whence  they  sail  to  the  Ha- 
vannah,  where  they  always  make  their  fleet  to  depart 
for  Spain."  And  "now  we  come  to  the  wild  coast  of 
Florida,  of  which  take  brief  account,"  says  the  "Pi- 
lot," because,  forsooth,  there  was  then  little  trade  or 
plunder  to  be  had.  Even  the  mighty  Mississippi  ap- 
pears only  as  the  Bay  of  Spirito  Sancto,  with,  inland, 
a  shadowy  "mishisipi."  Steering  out  by  Florida,  we 
discover  the  Gulf  Stream,  "an  extraordinary  strong 
current,  without  rippling  or  whirling,  or  any  other 
distinction  than  in  the  main  ocean,  always  setting  to 
the  northward,  occasioned  by  the  northeast  winds, 
which  there  always  blow,  not  altering  till  you  come  as 
far  as  the  Canaries  or  Salt  Islands  or  thereabouts." 

But  we  turn  back  toward  the  "Northern  Parts  of 


OLD  SEA  WAYS  219 

America,"  and  the  good  ports  of  Baltimore  or  Boston 
or  New  York,  and  leave  John  Hawkins  and  Francis 
Drake  and  their  mates  who,  after  all,  were  only  seek- 
ing gold  at  as  good  a  bargain  in  blood  or  adventure  as 
fortune  sent,  and  were  traders  no  less  than  the  man 
who  owned  our  "Pilot"  and  pored  over  its  charts  and 
quaint  letterpress  while  the  shores  of  Africa  thun- 
dered in  the  offing  or,  down  by  the  Spanish  Main,  his 
lookout  watched  sharp  for  the  lurch  of  a  pirate  brig. 
Nor  was  he  less  adventurer  than  they,  though  he 
travelled  the  Western  Ocean  by  roads  that  were  as 
undeviating,  for  a  good  seaman,  as  those  built  by 
Rome,  and  knew  the  way  of  the  currents  there  and 
the  steady  sweep  of  the  trades.  More  than  once  he  had 
anchored  at  Prince's  Island  for  a  cargo  of  sugar  and 
oil,  more  than  once  he  had  weighed  and  run  before 
the  "Turnado  "  and  crept  back  to  his  anchorage  when 
the  commotion  was  past.  He  had  traded  at  Matanzas 
and  Surinam;  he  knew  the  trick  of  the  Spaniard  at 
"the  Havannah"  and  Cadiz;  and  down  at  Rio  he 
rode  fast  horses  on  the  beach  and  steved  his  hold  full 
of  precious  woods.  He  was  no  scholar,  yet  could  cal- 
culate his  position  at  sea  by  the  latest  mode  of  the 
navigator;  he  was  no  linguist,  yet  could  bend  French- 
man, or  Russian,  or  the  wily  Chinese  hong  to  his  will. 
Like  the  Elizabethans,  he  loved  gold :  for  that  meant 
home  and  honor  and  dry  land  under  foot.  And  he 
plunged  into  seafaring  with  all  the  strength  in  him 
only  to  win  through  to  that  career  ashore  when  he 
should  own  the  ships  that  other  men  sailed.  He  showed 
an  unaffected,  outspoken  piety  that  would  be  ini- 


220  OLD  CAPE  COD 

possible  to  the  young  blood  of  to-day,  and  lie  and  his 
calling  are  no  more.  Yet  the  type  persists,  the  type  of 
all  true  adventurers  old  and  new :  the  men  who  steer 
for  free  waters,  but  first  of  all  are  masters  of  the 
ship. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  CAPTAINS 

I 

STORIES  of  the  Cape  Cod  captains  would  in  them- 
selves make  a  volume.  One  is  tempted  here  and 
tempted  there  in  choosing  which  should  be  typical 
of  the  "brave  old  times,"  and  fears  to  overlook  the 
most  significant.  Among  the  more  interesting  of  those 
who  have  not  been  already  mentioned  was  Elijah 
Cobb,  born  in  1768  at  Brewster  —  the  home  of  deep- 
water  sailors.  From  the  memoir  which  he  began  to 
write  in  old  age,  we  know  that  his  first  voyage,  pre- 
sumably as  cabin  boy,  netted  him  the  profit  of  a  new 
suit  of  clothes  and  in  money  twenty  dollars  which  he 
brought  home  intact  to  his  mother,  "the  largest  sum 
she  had  received  since  she  became  a  widow."  By  the 
time  he  was  twenty-five  he  had  made  several  voyages 
as  captain,  had  married  him  a  wife,  and  a  year  or  two 
later  was  to  run  afoul  of  the  French  Revolution.  As 
both  French  and  English  men-of-war  were  making 
no  bones  of  holding  up  neutrals,  he  had  cleared  for 
Corunna:  to  no  end,  for  he  was  taken  by  a  French 
frigate  and  run  into  the  harbor  of  Brest.  "My  vessel 
was  there,"  he  writes,  "but  her  cargo  was  taken  out 
and  was  daily  made  into  soup,  bread,  etc.,  for  the  half- 
starved  populace,  and  without  papers "  -  his  cap- 
tors had  sent  his  papers  to  the  Government  at  Paris 


OLD  CAPE  COD 

—  "I  could  not  substantiate  my  claim  to  the  ship.'* 
He  appealed  to  Paris,  and  had  the  cold  comfort  of 
hearing  that  "the  Government  will  do  what  is  right  in 
time."  In  the  meantime  he  was  treated  courteously, 
and  he  and  some  of  his  men  lodged  at  a  hotel  at  the 
Government's  expense.  After  six  weeks  the  word  came 
that  his  case  had  been  passed  upon:  "without  my 
even  learning  or  knowing  I  was  on  trial.  The  decision, 
however,  was  so  favorable  that  it  gave  new  feelings 
to  my  life."  A  fair  price  was  offered  for  the  cargo 
of  flour  and  rice  which  Brest  had  already  devoured; 
payment  in  bills  of  exchange  on  Hamburg,  fifty  days 
after  date.  Cobb  sent  his  ship  away  in  ballast,  and  set 
out  for  Paris  to  get  his  papers  and  his  bills  of  exchange. 
"In  about  two  days  I  was  under  weigh  for  Paris," 
writes  Cobb,  "with  the  national  courier  for  govern- 
ment. We  drove  Jehu-like  without  stopping,  except  to 
change  horses  and  mail,  taking  occasionally  a  mouth- 
ful of  bread  and  washing  it  down  with  low-priced 
Burgundy  wine.  As  to  sleep  I  did  not  get  one  wink 
during  the  whole  six  hundred  and  eighty-four  miles. 
We  had  from  ten  to  twelve  mounted  horsemen  for 
guard  during  the  night,  and  to  prove  that  the  pre- 
caution was  necessary,  the  second  morning  after 
leaving  Brest,  just  before  the  guard  left  us,  we  wit- 
nessed a  scene  that  filled  us  with  horror:  the  remains 
of  a  courier  lying  in  the  road,  the  master,  postillion, 
and  five  horses  lying  dead  and  mangled  by  it,  and  the 
mail  mutilated  and  scattered  in  all  directions.  How- 
ever, the  next  stage  was  only  five  miles  and  not  con- 
sidered dangerous,  and  we  proceeded  on.  We  reached 


THE  CAPTAINS  223 

Paris  on  a  beautiful  June  morning."  But  here  was  the 
beginning  of  fresh  trouble :  matters  there  were  moving 
too  fast  for  much  attention  to  be  given  a  young  Amer- 
ican shipmaster  in  quest  of  papers.  Cobb  writes  that 
it  was  in  "the  bloody  reign  of  Robespierre.  I  minuted 
down  a  thousand  persons  that  I  saw  beheaded  by  the 
infernal  guillotine,  and  probably  saw  as  many  more 
that  I  did  not  minute  down."  He  was  surfeited  with 
horrors  and  despairing  of  his  mission  as  time  passed 
swiftly  on  toward  the  termination  of  his  fifty  days  of 
grace,  when  a  friendly  Frenchman  at  his  hotel  ad- 
vised him  to  appeal  direct  to  Robespierre,  "saying 
that  he  was  partial  to  Americans."  On  the  instant  a 
note  was  despatched:  "An  American  citizen,  captured 
by  a  French  frigate  on  the  high  seas,  requests  a  per- 
sonal interview  and  to  lay  his  grievances  before  the 
citizen  Robespierre."  And  within  an  hour  came  the 
answer:  "I  will  grant  citizen  Cobb  an  interview  to- 
morrow at  10  A.M.  Robespierre."  The  event  proved 
Robespierre  to  be  sympathetic,  and,  moreover,  that 
he  spoke  very  good  English.  Cobb  told  him  of  his 
unavailing  visits  to  the  "Office  of  the  Twenty-third 
Department."  "Go  again  to  the  office,"  said  Robes- 
pierre, "and  tell  citizen  F.  T.  that  you  come  from 
Robespierre,  and  if  he  does  not  produce  your  papers 
and  finish  your  business  immediately,  he  will  hear 
from  me  again  in  a  way  not  so  pleasing  to  him."  Such  a 
message,  with  the  guillotine  working  overtime  in  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  was  likely  to  produce  results, 
and  the  affair  was  concluded  with  despatch.  But 
Robespierre  was  near  his  eclipse;  and  hardly  had 


224  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Cobb  received  his  papers  than,  to  his  horror,  he  was 
to  see  Robespierre's  head  falling  into  the  basket.  He 
waited  not  upon  the  order  of  his  going,  but  fled  from 
Paris,  and  arrived  at  Hamburg  the  very  day  before 
his  bills  became  due.  "The  fortunate  result  of  this 
voyage  increased  my  fame  as  a  shipmaster,"  is  his 
sole  comment  upon  the  adventure,  "but  allowed  me 
only  a  few  days  at  home." 

He  was  off  again  in  the  Monsoon,  a  new  ship  then, 
that  was  to  prove  a  famous  money-getter  for  more 
than  one  Cape  Cod  captain.  His  owners  gave  him  a 
valuable  cargo  with  directions  "to  find  a  market  for 
it  in  Europe";  for  certain  hogsheads  of  rum,  however, 
they  advised  Ireland.  Permission  to  land  it  there 
was  not  forthcoming.  "Matters  were  arranged,  how- 
ever," writes  Cobb,  "so  that  between  the  cove  of 
Cork  and  the  Scilly  Islands  eight  hogsheads  of  New 
England  rum  were  thrown  overboard,  and  a  small 
pilot  boat  hove  on  board  a  bag  containing  sixty-four 
English  guineas."  Again  a  good  sale  was  made  at 
Hamburg,  but  a  later  venture  there  proved  more 
difficult  of  achievement  than  the  rum  transaction  on 
the  Irish  coast:  for  by  that  time  the  English  blockade 
extended  to  Hamburg,  and  he  was  turned  back  to 
England  where,  at  Yarmouth,  he  received  permis- 
sion to  proceed  to  any  port  not  included  in  the  block- 
ade. But  Cobb  meant  to  sell  his  cargo  in  Hamburg. 
He  cleared  for  Copenhagen,  landed  his  goods  at 
Liibeck,  and  transported  them  overland  to  Ham- 
burg where  another  profitable  exchange  of  commodi- 
ties was  effected.  Hardly  was  he  at  home  again  for  a 


THE  CAPTAINS  225 

visit  at  his  Cape  Cod  farm  than  a  messenger  arrived 
with  orders  for  him  to  proceed  to  Malaga.  And  at 
Malaga  he  was  informed  that  the  British  Orders  in 
Council  went  into  force  that  day  forbidding  vessels 
taking  a  return  cargo.  "Of  course  this  would  make 
such  a  cargo  very  desirable,"  Cobb  remarks.  He 
needed  no  further  incentive  to  "manage  the  affair." 
"The  American  consul  thought  there  would  be  but 
little  risk  if  I  hurried,  and  in  eight  days  I  was  ready 
to  sail."  He  made  for  Gibraltar,  and  was  promptly 
overhauled  by  a  frigate.  "Whereupon,"  says  Cobb, 
"I  told  them  the  truth:  that  I  was  from  Malaga 
bound  for  Boston;  that  I  had  come  there  to  avail  my- 
self of  a  clearance  from  a  British  port  and  a  convoy 
through  the  gut.  And  after  I  had  seen  the  principal, 
placing  on  the  counter  before  his  eyes  a  two-ounce 
piece  of  gold,  I  was  permitted  to  go  with  my  clear- 
ance to  the  American  consul.  A  signal  gun  was  fired 
that  morning  and  I  was  the  first  to  move,  being  ap- 
prehensive that  some  incident  might  yet  subject  me 
to  that  fatal  investigation.  How  it  was  managed  to 
clear  out  a  cargo  of  Spanish  goods  from  Gibraltar, 
under  the  British  Orders  in  Council,  was  a  subject  of 
most  intense  speculation  in  Boston,  but  I  had  made  a 
good  voyage  for  all  concerned."  It  is  not  remarkable 
that  he  was  allowed  no  long  interval  for  farming  be- 
fore he  was  off  again  for  "a  voyage  to  Europe."  His 
owners  had  learned  to  their  great  gain  that  it  was  best 
to  give  Cobb  the  freedom  of  the  seas  and  the  markets 
ashore.  He  proceeded  to  Alexandria,  Virginia,  loaded 
with  flour  that  sold  well  at  Cadiz,  and  returned  in 


226  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ballast  to  Norfolk  where  he  found  orders  to  load 
again  at  Alexandria.  But  America  was  now  ready  to 
clamp  down  her  Embargo  Law  which  every  Yankee 
captain  worthy  of  the  name  was  prepared  to  evade. 
Mr.  Randolph  from  Congress  had  sent  news  of  it  to  a 
ship  merchant  at  Alexandria  who  passed  on  the  word 
to  Cobb.  "What  you  do  must  be  done  quickly,  for 
the  embargo  will  be  upon  you  at  10  A.M.  on  Sunday." 
Cobb  tells  the  story  of  his  achievement.  "It  was  now 
Friday  P.M.  We  had  about  a  hundred  tons  of  ballast 
on  board  which  must  be  removed,  and  upwards  of 
three  thousand  barrels  of  flour  to  take  in  and  stow 
away,  provisions,  wood,  and  water  to  take  on  board, 
a  crew  to  ship,  and  get  to  sea  before  the  embargo 
took  possession.  I  found  that  we  could  get  one  supply 
of  flour  from  a  block  of  stores  directly  alongside  the 
ship,  and  by  paying  three-eighths  of  a  dollar  extra,  we 
had  liberty  if  stopped  by  the  embargo  to  return  it." 
But  Cobb  meant  to  regain  for  his  employers  that 
three-eighths  of  a  dollar,  and  the  tidy  additional 
profit  that  was  to  be  made  on  a  cargo  of  American 
flour  at  Cadiz.  "Saturday  morning  was  fine  weather. 
About  sunrise  I  went  to  the  'lazy  corner'  so  called, 
and  pressed  into  service  every  negro  that  came  upon 
the  stand  and  sent  them  on  board  the  ship,  until  I 
thought  there  were  as  many  as  could  work.  I  then 
visited  the  sailors'  boarding-houses,  where  I  shipped 
my  crew,  paid  the  advance  to  their  landlords,  and  re- 
ceived their  obligations  to  see  each  sailor  on  board  at 
sunrise  next  morning.  It  had  now  got  to  be  about 
twelve  o'clock,  and  the  ship  must  be  cleared  at  the 


THE  CAPTAINS  227 

custom  house  before  one.  'Why  Cobb,'  said  the  col- 
lector there,  'what's  the  use  of  clearing  the  ship? 
You  can't  get  away.  The  embargo  will  be  here  at  ten 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  And  even  if  you  get  your 
ship  below,  I  shall  have  boats  out  that  will  stop  you 
before  you  get  three  leagues  to  sea.'  Said  I,  'Mr. 
Taylor,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  clear  my  ship?' 
'Oh,  yes,'  said  he.  And  accordingly  the  ship  was 
cleared  and  I  returned  on  board  and  found  every- 
thing going  on  well.  Finally,  to  shorten  the  story,  at 
nine  that  evening  we  had  about  three  thousand  and 
fifty  barrels  of  flour,  one  longboat  on  board  in  the 
chocks,  water,  wood  and  provisions  on  board  and 
stowed,  a  pilot  engaged,  and  all  in  readiness  for  the 
sea."  The  tide  served  at  eight  in  the  morning,  the 
sailors  were  aboard,  the  pilot  had  come,  and  down  the 
narrow,  winding  river  they  started  with  a  fair  wind 
that  helped  them  on  the  first  leg  of  their  journey. 
But  at  Hampton  Roads,  in  a  dead  calm,  the  govern- 
ment boat  hove  in  sight.  "Well,"  said  Cobb  to  his 
mate,  "I  fear  we  are  gone."  But  it  was  never  his  way 
to  give  up  hope  while  a  move  in  the  game  remained  to 
him:  when  the  boat  was  so  near  that  with  his  glass  he 
could  descry  the  features  of  its  crew,  a  breeze  came 
puffing  along,  and  he  made  for  sea.  In  about  ten 
minutes  the  boat  gave  up  the  chase,  Mr.  Taylor,  of 
Alexandria,  satisfied,  no  doubt,  that  he  had  dis- 
charged his  duty. 

Cobb  gave  the  first  notice  of  the  embargo  at  Cadiz. 
"The  day  before  I  sailed,"  he  writes,  "I  dined  with  a 
large  party  at  the  American  consul's  and,  it  being 


228  OLD  CAPE  COD 

mentioned  that  I  was  to  sail  next  day,  I  was  con- 
gratulated by  a  British  officer  on  the  safety  of  our  flag. 
Well,  I  thought  the  same,  when  at  the  time  war  be- 
tween England  and  America  was  raging.  I  sailed  from 
Cadiz  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  July,  1812,  bound  for 
Boston,  and  I  never  felt  safer  on  account  of  enemies 
on  the  high  seas."  But  for  once  his  confidence  was 
not  justified.  Hardly  had  he  entered  the  Grand  Banks 
than  he  was  overhauled  by  an  English  cruiser,  with 
whose  captain  he  proceeded  to  bargain  on  the  point 
of  ransom  for  his  ship.  "What  will  you  give  for  her," 
asked  the  Britisher,  "in  exchange  for  a  clear  pass- 
port into  Boston?"  "Four  thousand  dollars,"  replied 
Cobb  at  a  venture.  "Well,"  said  the  other,  "give  us 
the  money."  "Oh,  thank  you,"  said  Cobb,  "if  it  were 
on  board,  you'd  take  it  without  the  asking.  I'll  give 
you  a  draft  on  London."  "No,  cash,  or  we  burn  the 
ship."  "Well,"  said  Cobb  coolly,  "you'll  not  burn  me 
in  her,  I  hope."  The  upshot  was  that  a  prize  crew  was 
put  aboard,  and  Cobb  had  the  pleasure  of  being 
convoyed  by  the  frigate  into  Saint  John's,  where  he 
joined  a  company  of  about  twenty  Yankee  masters 
of  ships  and  their  officers,  at  the  so-called  "Prisoners' 
Hall."  Twenty-seven  American  prize  ships  were  in 
port;  and  in  a  few  days  the  Yankee  prize  Alert  came 
in,  with  a  British  crew  and  American  officers,  under 
the  protection  of  a  cartel  flag,  to  treat  for  an  exchange 
of  prisoners.  The  old  admiral  of  the  port  was  in  a  rage 
because  of  the  irregularity  of  making  the  cartel  on 
the  high  seas.  "I'm  likely  to  join  you  here,"  said  the 
Yankee  captain  to  his  countrymen  at  Prisoners'  Hall. 


THE  CAPTAINS  ,  229 

However,  in  a  few  moments  along  came  a  note  from 
the  admiral  saying  that  "he  found  that  the  honor  of 
the  British  officers  was  pledged  for  the  fulfilling  of  the 
contract,  and  as  he  knew  his  government  always  re- 
deemed the  pledges  of  its  officers,  he  would  receive 
the  [British]  officers  and  crew  on  the  Alert,  and  would 
give  in  exchange  every  American  prisoner  in  port 
(there  were  two  to  one)  and  we  must  be  off  in  twenty- 
four  hours.  Now  commenced  a  scene  of  confusion 
and  bustle.  The  crew  of  the  cartel  were  soon  landed, 
and  the  Americans  as  speedily  took  possession." 

At  twelve  midnight,  in  due  course  of  time  there- 
after, Captain  Cobb  arrived  at  his  home,  and  tapped 
on  the  window  of  a  downstairs  bedroom  where  he  knew 
his  wife  to  be  sleeping.  At  first  she  thought  it  a  twig 
of  the  sweetbriar  bush.  Then,  '"Who  is  there?'  cried 
she.  'It  is  I,'  said  I.  'Well,  what  do  you  want?' 
'To  come  in.'  'For  what?'  said  she.  Before  I  could 
answer  I  heard  my  daughter,  who  was  in  bed  with 
her,  say,  'Why,  ma,  it's  pa.'  It  was  enough.  The  doors 
flew  open,  and  the  greetings  of  affection  and  con- 
sanguinity multiplied  upon  me  rapidly.  Thus  in  a 
moment  was  I  transported  to  the  greatest  earthly 
bliss  a  man  can  enjoy,  viz:  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
happy  family  circle." 

With  these  cheerful  words  Mr.  Cobb  ends  his 
record.  For  a  year  or  two  thereafter  he  remained  at 
home,  and  then  was  off  again  to  sea.  In  1819  and  1820 
he  made  trips  to  Africa,  and  on  the  second  voyage  re- 
turned with  so  much  fever  aboard  that  the  ship,  as  a 
means  to  disinfecting  it,  was  sunk  at  the  wharf.  Then 


230  OLD  CAPE  COD 

he  retired  from  sea  —  he  had  built  a  fine  Georgian 
house  in  1800  —  and  filled  many  offices  ashore.  His 
youth  was  crammed  with  adventure;  he  followed  the 
sea  longer  than  some  of  his  mates;  yet  at  the  age  of 
fifty-two,  when  he  left  it  with  a  modest  fortune,  he 
showed  as  much  zest  in  the  management  of  more 
humdrum  affairs :  in  due  sequence  he  was  town  clerk, 
treasurer,  inspector-general,  representative  to  the 
General  Court,  senator,  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
brigadier-general  in  the  militia;  no  town  committee 
seems  to  have  been  complete  without  him;  he  was  a 
steadfast  member  of  the  liberal  church  which  had 
taken  possession  of  the  old  North  Parish.  And  on  one 
of  those  foreign  voyages  he  had  had  painted  a  portrait 
of  himself:  a  gallant,  high-bred  youth,  with  "banged  " 
hair  and  curls,  in  Directoire  dress,  rolling  collar,  mus- 
lin stock  and  frills.  The  lovely  colors  of  the  old  pastel 
hold  their  own,  the  soft  blue  of  the  surtout,  the  keen 
eyes,  the  handsome,  alert  face.  A  young  man  who 
knew  something  of  his  worth,  Captain  Cobb,  and  a 
young  man  who  made  exceptional  opportunity  to  put 
that  worth  to  the  test. 

A  contemporary  of  Cobb's  was  Freeman  Foster, 
born  in  1782  at  Brewster  before  its  historic  division 
from  Harwich.  At  the  age  of  ten  he  was  off  on  fishing- 
voyages  with  his  father,  who  had  been  a  whaler;  at 
fourteen  he  had  begun  to  work  his  way  up  to  the 
quarter-deck  of  the  merchant  service;  his  schooling 
was  acquired  in  the  intervals  ashore.  Curiously,  in  all 
his  seafaring,  he  never  crossed  the  "Line,"  but  cruised 
between  Boston,  New  Orleans,  and  the  West  Indies, 


THE  CAPTAINS  231 

the  Russian  ports  of  Archangel  and  Kronstadt,  and 
to  Elsinore.  At  fifty-five  he  retired  to  his  farm,  and  in 
the  Embargo  War  served  as  an  officer  in  the  militia 
under  his  neighbor  General  Cobb.  He  had  been  a  ro- 
bust boy  and  grew  to  be  a  mighty  man,  well  over  six 
feet  in  height  and  broad  in  proportion.  He  had  a 
family  of  ten  children;  and  his  record  tallies  with  that 
of  many  another  old  sea-captain:  he  "left  behind 
him  a  reputation  for  strict  integrity  and  sturdy  man- 
hood." 

Jeremiah  Mayo,  of  Brewster,  born  in  1786,  was  one 
of  nine  huge  brothers  who  were  said  to  measure,  in  the 
aggregate,  something  like  fifty-five  feet.  His  father 
meant  to  make  a  blacksmith  of  him,  with  fishing- 
voyages,  in  the  season,  as  relaxation.  At  sixteen  he 
tad  a  forge  of  his  own  in  his  father's  shop  and  could 
shoe  all  the  horses  that  were  brought  there.  But 
Jeremiah  had  no  notion  of  confining  his  adventures 
to  shoeing  horses  and  catching  fish,  and  at  eighteen 
he  was  off  for  a  voyage  to  Marseilles  when,  for  his 
ability,  he  received  two  dollars  a  month  more  than 
any  other  sailor  aboard.  On  his  next  voyage  to  Mal- 
aga, Leghorn,  Alicante,  and  Marseilles,  his  ship,  the 
Industry,  was  attacked  off  Gibraltar  by  the  Algerines 
and  escaped  with  some  casualties,  among  them  a 
flesh  wound  for  Jeremiah.  The  captain,  Gamaliel 
Bradford,  with  his  leg  shot  away,  had  to  be  left  in 
hospital  at  Lisbon.  On  his  third  voyage  he  and  a 
young  cousin  were  first  and  second  mate  and,  the 
captain  falling  ill,  the  two  lads,  each  only  nineteen, 
had  to  take  the  ship  by  the  dangerous  "north-about" 


232  OLD  CAPE  COD 

through  the  Hebrides  from  Amsterdam  to  Cadiz;  and 
on  a  second  voyage  with  the  same  captain,  who  seems 
to  have  been  one  of  faint  heart  and  would  have  given 
up  the  ship  when  she  sprung  a  leak,  Mayo  took  her 
safely  to  port,  and  at  Bordeaux,  where  she  was  sold, 
sailed  her  for  the  French  buyers  to  a  Breton  port  with 
a  cargo  of  claret,  worth  there  twice  its  value  at 
Bordeaux.  By  skilful  manoeuvre  he  evaded  the  British 
patrol,  landed  his  precious  cargo,  and  returned  safely 
to  Bordeaux  where  he  shipped  with  a  Yankee  cap- 
tain, with  a  cargo  of  Medoc,  for  Spain.  He  arrived  at 
Corunna  a  few  days  after  the  historic  battle  there,  and 
on  a  later  voyage  remembers  seeing  the  monument 
erected  to  Sir  John  Moore.  In  the  Embargo  War  he 
was  captured  by  an  English  frigate,  and  if  the  wind 
had  not  failed  him  would  have  turned  the  tables  by 
bowling  the  prize  crew  into  Baltimore  as  prisoners. 
"And  I  would  n't  have  blamed  you  if  you  had,"  he 
remembered  as  the  sportsmanlike  comment  of  his 
captor.  Immediately  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo  he 
was  at  Havre,  where  he  was  approached  by  an  agent 
of  Napoleon  with  a  proposition  to  take  the  emperor  to 
America.  He  promptly  accepted  the  hazard,  and  was 
disappointed  when  he  heard  Napoleon  had  been 
taken;  had  Napoleon  been  able  to  reach  the  Sally, 
he  might  have  escaped  Saint  Helena,  for  she  was  not 
spoken  from  Havre  to  Boston.  Mayo  greatly  admired 
Napoleon,  and  had  seen  him  a-horseback  at  Bayonne 
when  he  was  landing  his  army  for  Spain;  at  Paris,  in 
1815,  he  heard  the  shots  in  the  Luxembourg  Gardens 
when  Ney  was  executed;  he  remembers  seeing  La- 


THE  CAPTAINS  233 

fayette  driving  away  from  the  Hall  of  Assembly.  His 
vessel  had  been  one  of  the  first  to  enter  a  British  port 
after  the  War  of  1812,  and  the  captain  of  an  English 
frigate  there  sent  him  an  invitation  to  dine  and  took 
occasion  to  express  admiration  of  the  American 
fighting  quality  on  the  seas.  Mayo  retired  in  good 
time  to  his  comfortable  forty-acre  farm  in  Brewster, 
but  by  no  means  to  inactivity.  He  was  justice  of  the 
peace  and  well  read  in  the  law,  a  licensed  auctioneer, 
a  skilful  surveyor  and  draughtsman,  and  was  presi- 
dent of  the  Marine  Insurance  Company.  It  was  re- 
membered that  he  had  "rare  conversational  powers," 
which  were  well  employed,  we  may  suppose,  in  de- 
picting the  scenes  of  his  eventful  life.  Mayo  was  as 
handsome  a  man  as  Cobb,  his  portrait  showing  a  fine, 
spirited  profile,  with  aggressive  nose  and  a  beautifully 
arched  setting  of  the  eye.  He  must  have  been  mag- 
nificent with  his  six  feet  four  of  height. 

Until  the  end  of  the  clipper-ship  era,  Brewster  was 
famous  for  its  deep-water  sailors,  and  at  one  time  no 
less  than  sixty  captains  hailed  its  little  farms  as  home. 
In  the  later  period  one  of  them  was  to  rival  the  adven- 
tures of  Robinson  Crusoe  and  also  of  Mrs.  Leeks  and 
Mrs.  Aleshine.  One  suspects,  even,  that  Stockton  may 
have  heard  the  story.  His  fine  clipper  ship,  the  Wild 
Wave,  fifteen  hundred  tons,  with  a  crew  of  thirty  all 
told,  and  ten  passengers,  San  Francisco  to  Valparaiso, 
was  wrecked  on  Oeno,  a  coral  island  of  the  Pacific 
about  half  a  mile  in  circumference.  Passengers  and 
crew,  provisions  and  sails  for  tents  were  safely 
landed.  Water  they  found  by  digging  for  it.  But 


234  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Josiah  Knowles  was  not  the  man  to  remain  inert,  and 
after  two  weeks  he  took  a  ship's  boat,  the  mate  and 
five  men,  and  his  treasure  chest  of  eighteen  thousand 
dollars  in  gold,  and  set  out  for  Pitcairn's  Island  which 
,he  knew  to  be  distant  some  hundred  miles.  Safely 
there,  he  found  to  his  amazement  the  island  deserted 
and  the  inhabitants  decamped  to  Norfolk  Island,  a 
notice  to  that  effect,  for  the  benefit  of  possible  callers, 
posted  in  several  of  the  houses.  They  had  left  behind 
them  much  possible  provision  in  the  way  of  sheep, 
goats,  bullocks,  and  poultry,  and  there  was  plenty 
of  tropical  fruit  such  as  oranges,  bananas,  breadfruit, 
and  cocoanuts.  But  it  was  plain  that  the  voyage  must 
be  continued  if  Knowles  was  to  rescue  his  companions 
marooned  at  Oeno,  and  he  himself  be  returned  to 
civilization.  By  ill  luck  their  boat,  shortly  after  they 
had  landed,  was  stove  in  on  a  reef,  and  their  first  care 
was  to  replace  it.  They  found  six  axes,  one  hammer, 
and  a  few  other  tools,  and  some  of  the  houses  were 
burned  to  obtain  nails  and  iron.  The  timber  had  to  be 
felled  and  hewed  as  best  could  be;  and  their  boat,  the 
John  Adams,  was  launched  July  23,  a  little  more  than 
four  months  after  the  wreck  at  Oeno.  The  ensign  of 
the  new  craft  was  fashioned  from  the  red  hangings  of 
the  chapel  pulpit,  an  old  shirt,  and  some  blue  overalls. 
All  being  ship-shape  and  in  order,  Captain  Knowles 
again  set  sail  with  his  gold,  the  mate  and  two  men, 
and  "the  wind  being  unfavourable"  headed  for  the 
Marquesas.  Their  destination  was  Tahiti,  fifteen  hun- 
dred miles  distant.  Three  of  his  men  had  preferred 
the  comfortable  solitude  of  Pitcairn's  Island  to  such 


THE  CAPTAINS  235 

an  adventure.  But  fortune  favored  the  daring,  and  on 
August  4  they  made  Nukahiva,  where,  by  extraor- 
dinary luck,  for  no  American  ship  had  called  at  the 
island  in  the  previous  five  years,  they  found  the  Yankee 
sloop-of-war  Vandalia.  Next  morning,  with  his  usual 
promptness,  Knowles  sold  his  boat  to  the  island  mis- 
sionary, and  was  off  on  the  Vandalia  which  sailed  for 
the  rescue  of  the  marooned  on  Oeno  and  Pitcairn's, 
dropping  Knowles  and  his  men  at  Tahiti.  The  mate 
joined  the  Vandalia  as  an  officer.  Knowles,  at  Tahiti, 
was  offered  passage  on  a  French  frigate  to  Honolulu, 
where  he  found  an  American  barque  loading  for  San 
Francisco  and  arrived  there  the  middle  of  September. 
He  found  letters  from  home,  but  could  carry  news 
there  as  quickly  as  it  could  be  sent,  as  there  was  no 
communication  overland  then  except  by  pony  ex- 
press. Sailing  for  New  York  via  Panama,  he  arrived 
there  late  in  October  and  telegraphed  home,  where  he 
had  long  been  given  up  for  lost.  Fourteen  years  later,  in 
his  ship,  the  Glory  of  the  Seas,  he  stopped  at  Pitcairn's 
Island,  now  restored  as  the  habitation  of  man,  was 
received  royally  by  the  Governor  and  natives,  and 
speeded  on  his  way  by  the  entire  population,  each 
bearing  a  gift  —  the  island  fruits,  ducks,  chickens, 
even  sheep,  "enough,"  said  he,  "to  load  a  boat." 
Some  years  later  he  retired  from  sea  to  live  in  San 
Francisco,  where  the  Governor  of  Pitcairn's  Island, 
whenever  he  came  to  town,  made  his  headquarters 
at  the  home  of  Captain  Knowles. 

One  could  go  on  indefinitely  recounting  the  adven- 
tures of  these  men,  among  them  many  pioneers  in  one 


236  OLD  CAPE  COD 

part  of  the  world  or  another.  A  Brewster  sailor  went 
to  Oregon  in  1846,  and  a  few  years  later  sold  out  his 
frame  house  and  saw  and  grist  mill  to  his  brother, 
while  he  himself,  from  1854  to  1858,  carried  cargoes  of 
ship-spars  from  Puget  Sound  to  China,  the  first  car- 
goes to  Hong  Kong.  In  1794,  John  Kenrick,  command- 
ing the  Columbia  Redivivia,  with  the  sloop  Lady 
Washington  as  tender,  was  the  first  American  master 
to  circle  the  globe.  He  rounded  the  Horn  and  sailed  up 
the  coast  to  the  Columbia  River,  which  he  is  said  to 
have  named  from  his  ship.  That  he  gave  over  to  his 
mate,  Robert  Gray,  with  instructions  to  explore  the 
river,  while  he  himself  rigged  his  tender  as  a  brig  and 
crossed  the  Pacific,  swinging  around  home  again  by 
way  of  the  East  Indies  and  "the  Cape."  Earlier  than 
that  the  Stork  of  Boston,  under  a  Yarmouth  captain, 
is  said  to  have  been  the  first  to  carry  the  American 
flag  around  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope;  and  Brewster 
captains  were  the  first  to  fly  the  American  merchant 
flag  in  the  White  Sea.  A  Brewster  man,  in  1852,  car- 
ried the  first  load  of  ice,  and  a  frame  house  for  storing 
it,  to  Iquique.  This  idea  of  sending  ice  to  the  tropics 
was  to  net  thousands  of  per  cent  profit.  This  same 
master  carried,  and  placed,  the  great  gun  named 
the" swamp  angel"  that  was  expected  to  retake  Fort 
Sumter,  and  he  transported  troops  for  Butler.  In  1870 
also,  he  carried  a  valuable  cargo  of  war  material  to  the 
French  at  Brest;  and  on  the  return  voyage  shipped,  at 
London,  many  passengers  and  a  lot  of  animals  for 
Barman's  circus.  They  were  so  delayed  on  the  home- 
ward passage  that  their  provisions  were  nearly  ex- 


THE  CAPTAINS  237 

hausted  and,  as  it  was,  several  trained  ponies  and  goats 
were  sacrificed  to  feed  the  more  valuable  lions  and 
tigers.  Collins,  of  Truro,  was  a  blockade-runner  in 
1812,  sailing  open  boats  from  the  lower  Cape  towns 
to  Boston,  but  was  captured  in  his  first  venture  on  the 
deep  sea.  Later  he  was  in  the  coasting  trade  up  and 
down  as  far  as  Mexico,  and  had  many  medals  for 
rescue  at  sea;  later  still  he  established  the  famous 
Collins  Line.  Hallett,  of  Barnstable,  who  died  in  1849, 
was  a  pioneer  in  this  coasting  trade,  and  also  as  a 
saver  of  souls :  for  he  raised  the  first  Bethel  flag  for 
seamen's  worship  in  New  York  and  in  Boston.  He 
was  a  "professor"  from  his  twentieth  year,  and  was 
said  to  be  "singularly  gifted  in  prayer  and  exhorta- 
tion." In  1808  he  built  the  Ten  Sisters,  the  most 
noted  packet  for  years  running  between  New  York 
and  Boston.  Rider,  of  Truro,  who  combined  with  sea- 
faring the  trade  of  carpenter,  went  West  in  1837,  and 
built  "the  first  boat  to  navigate  the  Illinois  River  by 
mule  power,"  and  afterwards  built  other  famous  river 
boats.  A  Barnstable  captain  transported  Mark  Twain 
on  the  first  leg  of  his  "Innocents  Abroad"  expedi- 
tion; another  was  master  of  the  beautiful  Gravina, 
named  from  the  admiral  in  command  of  the  Spanish 
reserves  at  Trafalgar,  which  on  her  maiden  voyage, 
New  York  to  Shanghai,  took  out  some  of  Bishop 
Boone's  missionaries.  A  Brewster  man  made  a  for- 
tune by  establishing  a  stage-line  to  the  Australian 
gold-fields. 

It  was  natural  that,  in  1849,  the  Cape  Cod  men 
should  be  among  the  first  to  start  for  California;  and 


238  OLD  CAPE  COD 

it  is  interesting,  also,  that  the  majority  of  them,  at 
least,  in  time  returned  to  their  life  at  sea.  A  Barnsta- 
ble  captain,  Harris,  who  had  received  a  medal  from 
the  Admiralty  for  saving  a  British  crew  in  the  North 
Sea,  sailed,  with  his  son,  for  San  Francisco,  where  their 
brig  was  abandoned  at  the  water-front  and  was  used 
as  an  eating-house.  Captain  Harris,  in  due  course,  re- 
turned to  Barnstable,  and  became  sheriff  of  the  county. 
There  is  testimony  that  he  was  "always  young  in 
spirit:  it  was  a  pleasure  to  see  him  dance,  for  he 
showed  us  more  fancy  steps  and  more  of  the  old  ways 
of  dancing  than  we  had  ever  seen."  Cape  sailors  were 
more  apt  to  man  the  clippers  than  hunt  for  gold. 
A  Hyannis  captain  remembered  that  an  owner  once 
said  to  him  when  he  was  looking  for  a  berth:  "The 
new  clipper  ship  Spit-fire  is  lading  for  San  Francisco 
and  the  cap'n's  a  driver.  He  wants  a  mate  can  jump 
over  the  fore-yard  every  morning  before  breakfast." 
"I'm  his  man,"  retorted  the  seaman,  "if  it's  laid  on 
the  deck."  He  shipped  forthwith,  and  had  a  passage 
of  one  hundred  and  two  days  to  San  Francisco.  A 
group  of  eight  Brewster  men  and  four  from  Boston 
combined  seamanship  and  gold-hunting  by  buying  a 
brig  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  tons  and  manning  it 
themselves.  They  elected  their  officers,  the  rest  of  the 
owners  going  as  common  sailors.  "We  were  all  square- 
rig  sailors  except  Ben  Crocker,"  writes  one  of  the 
"seamen,"  "and  he  was  made  cap'nof  the  main  boom, 
as  the  square-rig  sailors  were  afraid  of  it."  The  cook 
worked  his  passage  out,  and  there  were  six  passen- 
gers; all  ate  together  in  the  cabin.  In  a  hundred  and 


THE  CAPTAINS  239 

forty-seven  days  they  made  San  Francisco,  where 
they  sold  the  brig  for  half  what  she  cost  them,  and 
"each  man  took  his  own  course."  There  is  no  record 
that  any  of  them  made  a  fortune. 

One  Forty-Niner,  sailing  for  "Frisco,"  was  lured 
by  richer  tales  of  gold  to  Australia,  whither  he 
worked  his  passage  only  to  be  wrecked  on  the  coast, 
and  turning  short-about  for  a  trading  voyage  among 
the  Pacific  islands  was  again  wrecked,  and  in  the  lapse 
of  time  mourned  as  dead  by  his  family.  But  in  a  year 
or  so  news  of  him  came  from  the  Carolines,  where  he 
had  become  virtual  king  of  one  of  the  islands,  mar- 
ried the  chief's  daughter,  taught  the  natives  the  uses 
of  civilization  in  respect  of  houses,  clothing,  and  the 
sanctity  of  the  marriage  tie,  and  was  building  up  a 
pretty  trade  in  tortoise-shell,  cocoa  oil,  and  hogs.  For 
nearly  ten  years  he  ruled  his  little  kingdom,  and  then 
was  killed  by  jealous  invaders  from  another  island 
who,  worsted  in  battle,  were  literally  torn  limb  from 
limb  by  his  enraged  people,  and  thrown  to  the  sharks, 
thereby  losing  not  only  life  here,  but  all  hope  of  the 
hereafter. 

The  missionary  brig  Morning  Star  had  often  touched 
at  King  John's  Island,  and  generous  testimony  was 
offered  that  "John  Higgins  of  Brewster  has  done  more 
towards  civilizing  these  natives  than  any  missionary 
could  have  done."  And  no  less  than  three  Yarmouth 
captains  had  at  one  time  or  another  commanded  the 
several  succeeding  vessels  of  the  Board  of  Missions, 
all  of  which  were  named  the  Morning  Star. 

There  are  records  enough  of  mutiny  and  fire  and  of 


240  OLD  CAPE  COD 

disaster  other  than  shipwreck  at  sea  —  the  captain 
wounded  and  his  wife  quelling  the  insurgents;  a  coal 
cargo  afire  in  the  South  Pacific,  the  crew  taking  to  the 
boats  to  make  the  Marquesas  twenty-one  hundred 
miles  distant;  a  captain  "subduing  a  fire  in  his  cargo 
of  coals,"  outward  bound  to  Singapore,  and  receiving 
a  gold  watch  as  a  reward  from  the  underwriters  for 
saving  the  ship.  A  Brewster  captain  and  his  mate, 
"taking  the  sun"  in  a  stiff  northwest  gale,  were  swept 
overboard  by  a  heavy  sea,  the  mate  to  his  death,  but 
the  captain,  quick  of  wit,  grasping  a  rope  as  he  went 
overboard,  took  a  double  turn  round  his  arm;  the 
wheelman  saw  him,  the  watch  ran  aft  and  hauled  him 
in  so  badly  wrenched  he  could  not  stand,  but  with 
sufficient  spirit  to  be  lashed  to  the  deck-house  and 
command  the  vessel  through  the  tail  of  the  storm.  A 
Barnstable  captain  in  the  Mediterranean  service  was 
fatally  stabbed  by  a  Malayan  sailor,  who  jumped 
overboard  and  swam  ashore,  and  the  captain  lived 
long  enough  to  reach  home.  On  the  Sunshine,  Mel- 
bourne to  Callao,  one  of  the  crew  poisoned  the  offi- 
cers, who  all  recovered  except  the  captain,  another 
Barnstable  man. 

Nearly  a  hundred  years  ago  now,  the  brig  Polly, 
under  command  of  Captain  William  Cazneau,  and 
with  two  Dennis  men,  accomplished  seamen  both, 
among  the  crew,  sailed  from  Boston.  Just  south  of 
the  Gulf  Stream  she  ran  into  a  fierce  gale  that  laid 
her  on  her  beam  ends,  and  in  order  to  right  her  the 
masts  were  cut  away.  Loaded  with  lumber,  she  could 
not  sink,  and  as  if  invisible  she  floated  unseen,  ex- 


THE  CAPTAINS  241 

posed  to  every  caprice  of  wind  and  weather,  in  and 
out  of  the  most  frequented  trade-routes  of  the  sea. 
Provisions  and  water  exhausted,  one  by  one  the 
crew  died  until  only  the  captain  and  an  Indian  cook 
were  left.  They  ate  barnacles  which  by  now  were 
thick  enough  on  the  ship's  side,  obtained  fire  by  the 
old  Indian  device  of  rubbing  two  sticks  together,  and 
water  by  distillation.  For  one  hundred  and  ninety 
days  they  managed  to  keep  themselves  alive  until  at 
last  a  ship  sighted  them;  and  the  captain,  in  fur- 
ther proof  of  an  iron  constitution,  lived  to  the  good 
age  of  ninety-seven. 

In  1855  the  Titan,  commanded  by  a  young  Brew- 
ster  captain  who  lived  on  through  the  first  decade  of 
the  twentieth  century,  alert  and  active  in  the  public 
service  to  the  end  of  his  long  life,  was  chartered  by 
the  French  Government  to  transport  troops  to  the 
Crimea.  For  two  years  he  cruised  back  and  forth 
through  the  Mediterranean  in  such  service,  and  then, 
home  again,  took  from  New  Orleans  to  Liverpool  the 
largest  cargo  of  cotton  that  had  ever  been  carried, 
and  was  nearly  wrecked  making  port  in  a  stiff  gale. 
Refitted  and  made  seaworthy,  she  took  out  over  a 
thousand  passengers  to  Melbourne,  thence  pro- 
ceeded to  Callao  for  a  cargo  of  guano  for  London; 
but  homeward  bound,  she  sprung  a  leak  in  the  South 
Atlantic  and  had  to  be  abandoned  some  eleven  hun- 
dred miles  off  the  coast  of  Brazil.  Sails  were  set  and 
all  took  to  the  boats  which,  provisioned  with  biscuit, 
canned  meats,  jam,  and  none  too  much  water,  were 
moored  to  the  ship  that  she  might  serve  them  as  long 


242  OLD  CAPE  COD 

as  might  be  safe.  Next  morning  the  captain  and  an 
officer  boarded  her,  saw  there  was  no  hope  for  her, 
returned  to  the  boats,  and  cast  off.  They  knew  there 
was  an  island,  Tristan  d  'Acunha,  somewhere  north  of 
them,  but  as  it  was  "too  small  to  hit,"  they  decided  to 
make  for  the  mainland.  But  they  were  in  the  "belt  of 
calms,"  which  might  extend  for  ten  miles  or  a  hun- 
dred and  ten,  and  oars  must  come  before  sails.  As  the 
men  bent  to  their  work,  one  cried  out  to  look  at  the 
old  Titan.  A  slight  breeze  aloft  catching  her  sails,  she 
had  righted  and  seemed  to  be  following  them;  but 
even  as  they  looked,  and  wondered,  she  careened  two 
or  three  times  and  went  down.  In  a  shorter  time  than 
might  have  been  hoped,  they  were  picked  up,  by  a 
Frenchman  bound  for  Havre  who  refused  to  inter- 
rupt his  voyage  for  their  convenience;  but  being  pro- 
visioned for  a  small  crew  and  the  Titan's  men  num- 
bering fifty-three,  he  was  soon  glad  to  land  them  at 
Pernambuco.  This  same  captain  told  of  a  voyage 
from  Australia  to  Hong  Kong  when  he  was  sailing 
by  some  old  charts,  "seventeen  hundred  and  some- 
thing" —  the  "English  Pilot"  for  a  guess  —  wherein 
certain  islands  were  sketched  in  as  "uncertain." 
They  were  running  into  this  region  on  a  beautiful 
moonlight  night,  and  the  captain  and  a  passenger  he 
was  carrying  went  aloft  and  smoked,  and  watched, 
until  past  midnight.  But  at  two  he  was  called  up 
again,  and  there  directly  over  the  bow  were  palm- 
trees  thick  in  the  moonlight.  They  had  grazed,  and 
cleared,  the  island  of  Monte  Verde,  some  twenty 
miles  in  length,  which  of  course  was  charted  on  the 


THE  CAPTAINS  243 

more  modern  maps  of  the  day.  And  it  was  in  this  same 
southern  sea  that  he  once  ran  in  and  out  of  a  hurri- 
cane. He  could  have  veered  out  of  its  path,  but  he 
was  in  his  rash  youth,  and  the  fringe  of  it  giving  a  good 
breeze,  he  reefed  up  and  went  flying  ahead  under  bare 
poles,  through  a  tremendous  gale  that  soon  had  him 
at  its  will.  Suddenly,  like  a  flash,  there  was  entire  calm, 
and  stillness  save  for  the  distant  roaring  of  the  hur- 
ricane: he  realized  that  he  had  got  into  the  very  cen- 
tre of  it,  which  travels  ahead  only  some  twelve  miles 
an  hour,  but  whirls  round  and  round  with  incredi- 
ble velocity.  He  knew  that  he  had  somehow  to  drive 
his  ship  out  of  the  vortex  that  was  sure  to  suck  him 
down,  and  again  through  the  outer  turmoil  —  boom- 
ing like  thunder,  flattening  the  boat  on  her  beam  ends 
• —  he,  making  sure  the  end  had  come,  but  driving  her 
on,  again  won  through,  and  the  boat  righting  herself, 
continued  on  her  way.  The  captain  never  again  wooed 
the  favoring  breeze  of  a  hurricane. 

The  very  names  of  their  ships  stir  the  imagination : 
the  Light  Foot,  the  Chariot  of  Fame,  the  Chispa,  the 
Rosario,  named  for  the  wife  of  an  owner  who  had 
been  a  captain  in  his  day  and  had  loved  and  won  a 
Spanish  beauty.  The  Whirlwind  and  Challenger  were 
famous  clipper  ships;  and  one  man  commanded  suc- 
cessively the  Undaunted,  the  Kingfisher,  the  Mon- 
soon and  Mogul  and  Ocean  King,  and  the  steamers 
Zenobia  and  Palmyra  —  and  Edward  Everett.  There 
was  the  Young  Turk  and  Santa  Claus,  the  Tally  Ho, 
the  Expounder  and  Centaur  and  Cape  Cod;  the 
Agenor  and  Charmer  and  Valhalla,  the  Shooting 


244  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Star  and  the  Flying  Dragon,  the  Altof  Oak,  and, 
quaintly,  the  Rice  Plant;  the  Oxenb ridge  and  Kedar. 
Some  ships  were  so  famous  that  when  their  day  was 
done,  they  passed  down  their  names  to  ships  of  a 
younger  generation  than  theirs.  Masters  changed 
from  one  ship  to  another,  and  discussion  as  to  how 
this  captain  and  that  handled  the  Expounder  or 
Monsoon  on  such  or  such  a  voyage  filled  many  a  long 
evening  of  their  old  age  at  home. 

II 

As  captains  grew  toward  middle  age,  and  the  children 
were  old  enough  to  be  left  at  home  with  relatives  or 
put  into  boarding-school,  their  wives  not  infrequently 
accompanied  them  on  the  long  voyages  "to  some  port 
or  ports  in  Europe  at  the  discretion  of  the  captain," 
as  his  orders  might  cite;  or  farther  afield  to  "Bom- 
bay and  such  ports  in  the  East  Indies  or  China  as 
the  captain  may  determine,  the  voyage  not  to  exceed 
two  years"  -  or  a  longer  matter  when  profit  was 
found  in  cruising  back  and  forth  between  the  Indies 
and  the  ports  "down  under."  But  wherever  the  port 
might  be,  there  were  sure  to  be  Yankee  ships,  and 
many  were  the  visits  between  ship  and  ship,  com- 
manded, perhaps,  by  old  neighbors  at  home;  more 
formal  festivities  ashore  were  offered  by  consignees, 
or  the  American  consul,  or  a  foreign  acquaintance 
that  was  renewed  from  voyage  to  voyage. 

In  1844  a  Barnstable  captain  wrote  from  France: 
"Dunkirk  and  Bordeaux  are  fine  places  and  contain 
many  curiosities  to  us.  We  had  more  invitations  to 


THE  CAPTAINS  245 

dine  than  we  wished  as  the  dinners  in  this  country 
are  very  lengthy,  say  from  three  to  four  hours  before 
you  rise  from  the  table,  and  then  not  dry.  To-day  we 
have  been  to  the  Bordeaux  Mechanical  Exposition  or 
Fair,  and  it  is  splendid.  There  are  nine  American  ves- 
sels here,  and  five  of  the  captains  have  their  wives." 
These  Barnstable  captains  and  their  families,  when  in 
New  York,  used  to  stop  at  a  hotel  opposite  Fulton 
Ferry,  and  when  they  went  uptown  of  an  evening  to 
the  Crystal  Palace  or  the  theatre  or  opera,  they  would 
charter  a  special  Fulton  Ferry  'bus  for  the  journey. 
And  if  the  voyage  began  with  an  American  port  of 
call,  at  New  Orleans,  we  will  say,  there  was  plenty  of 
gayety  —  balls,  theatre-parties,  opera,  and  oyster- 
suppers  —  and  more  than  once  a  young  shipmaster 
was  captivated  by  the  bright  eyes  of  some  Southern 
beauty. 

A  long  voyage  to  Australia  and  India  was  another 
matter.  The  diary  and  "letters  home"  of  a  captain 
and  his  wife  could  tell  us  that;  and  while  not  brilliant 
in  themselves,  such  records  give  us  the  atmosphere 
of  these  old  times  as  could  perhaps  nothing  else.  On 
a  February  16,  some  sixty  years  ago,  a  captain  writes 
to  his  children  who  were  in  boarding-school:  "We 
have  had  a  very  long  and  dull  passage,  with  many 
calms  and  head  winds,  and  are  only  to  the  equator  and 
thirty-nine  days  out.  It  has  tried  my  patience  pretty 
well;  but  I  can't  make  winds  or  weather."  His  wife 
was  with  him,  and  he  was  also  taking  a  passenger  on 
this  voyage  to  Australia.  "It  is  very  warm  and  fine 
after  a  few  days  of  hard  rain  when  we  caught  plenty 


246  OLD  CAPE  COD 

of  water  so  we  can  wash  as  much  as  we  like,  and 
clothes  belonging  to  all  hands  are  hung  out  drying  all 
over  the  ship.  While  I  am  writing  the  rest  are  reading 
and  sitting  around  the  cabin  with  as  little  clothing  on 
as  possible.  I  imagine  you  at  church,  muffled  up  in 
cloaks  and  furs,  listening  to  a  good  sermon  while  we 
have  to  do  our  own  preaching.  If  I'd  had  a  letter 
ready  a  few  days  ago,  I  could  have  sent  it  by  a 
barque  bound  up  to  New  York  which  I  spoke.  Yet  it 
would  have  been  difficult,  as  it  was  in  the  evening  and 
I  could  not  understand  who  she  was,  and  don't  know 
that  she  understood  our  name.  Mother  busies  herself 
sewing  when  she  feels  like  it,  and  reads  the  rest  of  the 
time.  I  must  bid  you  good-morning  now  and  attend 
to  getting  an  observation  and  see  where  we  are."  On 
February  28  he  continues  the  letter:  "I  am  now  about 
where  I  expect  to  pass  the  Sunrise,  if  nothing  has 
happened  to  her.  I  look  for  her  every  day.  I  don't 
know  what  poor  Freeman  would  say  if  we  should 
meet  them."  Freeman  was  the  oldest  son  who  had  in- 
sisted on  going  to  sea  to  "toughen "  himself  in  a  losing 
fight  with  "consumption";  and  here  on  the  wide 
stretches  of  the  southern  seas  his  father  hoped  to 
have  word  with  him.  "Mother  is  sewing  on  old 
clothes  of  some  sort,"  he  went  on  to  tell  them,  "and 
if  she  is  well  I  think  she  will  have  time  to  mend  all  up. 
Time  passes  rapidly,  but  I  often  think  of  our  little 
home  being  shut  up  and  how  many  happy  days  we 
spent  there,  and  hope  we  may  all  live  to  spend  many 
more."  He  ends  his  week's  stint  of  writing  witlvsomc 
excellent  moral  advice.  March  3:  "We  are  now  going 


THE  CAPTAINS  247 

for  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  with  a  moderate  breeze 
and  good  weather.  Mother  has  been  washing  a  little, 
and  is  now  much  taken  up  with  some  story  she  is 
reading.  I  suppose  it  is  washing  day  at  home,  and  I 
fancy  Mrs.  Lincoln  hanging  her  clothes  in  our  yard." 
March  15 :  "Good-morning,  my  dear  children.  I  wish  I 
could  hear  you  answer  to  it,  but  thousands  of  miles 
now  separate  us  and  every  day  still  more.  We  are 
now  abreast  of  the  Cape,  and  have  had  some  rough 
weather  since  I  wrote  last.  Mother  is  first-rate,  and 
can  eat  as  much  salt  junk  as  any  of  us.  To-day  she  is 
ironing  a  little,  and  I  have  been  pitching  quoits  with 
the  passenger  for  exercise.  We  see  nothing  but  the 
blue  sea  now,  not  a  vessel  or  anything  else  but  some 
birds.  We  caught  an  albatross  the  other  day,  but  we 
let  him  go  again  as  it  seemed  cruel  to  deprive  him  of 
his  liberty.  We  have  got  through  all  our  hot  weather, 
and  I  expect  we  shall  soon  want  a  fire  while  you  will 
be  having  the  spring  —  the  green  grass  and  the  trees 
putting  forth  their  beauty,  and  I  hope  you  will  enjoy 
it  well.  I  shall  not  write  any  more  until  I  arrive.  Be 
good  children  is  the  sincere  wish  of  your  own  dear 
Father." 

On  April  25  Mother  writes  Nancy  a  letter  of  anx- 
ious instructions  as  to  closing  the  house  after  vaca- 
tion; because  she  is  at  the  Antipodes,  Mother  is  no 
less  the  careful  housewife.  "Take  good  care  of  the 
carpets;  you  need  do  nothing  about  the  winter  bed- 
clothes, they  are  all  safe.  Be  sure  that  the  skylight 
is  secure,  and  if  it  leaks  more  than  usual  get  Mr. 
Snow  to  repair  it.  If  necessary,  put  more  platters 


248  OLD  CAPE  COD 

to  catch  the  water.  Have  the  boys  attend  to  the 
underpinning  of  the  house  so  that  the  rats  or  skunks 
cannot  get  in;  and  tell  them  I  wish  they  would  paint 
my  boxes  and  buckets.  I  wish  them  light-colored, 
and  put  them  on  the  old  table  and  in  the  sink  to 
dry.  You  will  find  some  gooseberry  and  currant  pre- 
serve in  the  cellar  which  you  can  dispose  of.  Do  not 
disturb  a  jar  in  the  dining-room  closet.  When  Free- 
man arrives  have  his  sea-clothes  put  in  the  barn.  Take 
good  care  of  Clanrick's  overcoat.  If  it  is  wet,  see  that 
it  is  dried  as  soon  as  possible,  and  if  torn  mend  it 
immediately.  You  know  it  must  last  him  another 
winter  for  his  best.  Do  not  forget  to  wear  your  rub- 
bers" -and  so  on.  They  were  entering  Melbourne 
Bay,  and  Mother,  having  unburdened  her  mind  of  its 
care,  was  now  free  to  close  her  letter,  which,  as  a 
steamer  was  sailing  next  day,  would  be  sent  back  by 
the  doctor,  "who  will  board  us  this  afternoon."  "The 
boys  [members  of  the  crew,  and  neighbors  at  home] 
will  not  probably  send  letters  this  time.  You  will  re- 
ceive this  a  month  sooner  than  you  anticipated.  Give 
my  love  to  grandmother.  I  often  think  of  her,  and 
hope  she  will  not  go  to  her  old  home  to  live  alone.  Tell 
her  father  will  see  that  her  board  is  paid.  She  need  not 
give  herself  any  uneasiness  about  that.  I  must  now 
bid  you  good-bye  with  much  love  from  your  affec- 
tionate Mother." 

And  of  course  Mother  had  been  keeping  a  Daily 
Journal,  a  copy  of  which,  from  time  to  time,  she  sent 
the  children.  "Just  fifteen  weeks  from  the  time  we 
left  Boston  we  saw  King's  Island,"  she  writes  of  the 


THE  CAPTAINS  249 

end  of  their  voyage.  "It  was  a  joyful  sound  to  me 
when  I  heard  the  cry  from  aloft  of  Land  Ho.  I  was 
almost  tempted  to  go  aloft  as  I  had  not  caught  a 
glimpse  of  land  or  even  a  rock  since  I  left  home.  Soon 
after,  I  could  see  the  high  hills  from  the  deck  which 
are  about  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  from  Mel- 
bourne. The  next  evening  we  saw  the  light,  but  the 
wind  being  fresh  ahead  we  could  not  gain  much, 
which  was  rather  trying  as  we  were  anxious  to  get  in. 
The  twenty-eighth  we  took  a  pilot,  and  as  I  had  an 
opportunity  to  send  my  letters  I  felt  quite  reconciled 
to  my  situation,  it  being  beautiful  weather  and  fine 
scenery.  The  land  on  both  sides  of  us  is  covered  with 
trees  and  shrubbery,  fresh  like  ours  in  June,  although 
autumn  here.  Arrived  at  our  anchorage  about  two 
o'clock,  and  lots  of  people  called  aboard,  Mr.  Osborn, 
our  consignee,  among  them.  He  invited  us  to  go  to 
church  with  him  on  Sunday  and  dine  with  him  and  go 
to  the  Botanic  Gardens,  and  we  accepted.  The  Gar- 
dens are  beautiful  almost  beyond  description  '*  —  but 
she  does  describe  them,  and  charmingly  too,  and  the 
birds  there,  and  the  waterfowl,  "the  plumage  of  which 
is  superb."  And  she  notes  that  the  Yarra  Yarra  River 
is  "not  half  as  wide  as  our  pond."  "  We  called  also  at 
Mr.  Smith's,  a  brother  of  our  former  minister.  He 
has  a  very  pretty  place  and  gave  me  a  very  pretty 
bouquet.  We  returned  to  the  ship  about  sunset  very 
much  pleased  with  my  first  day  in  Melbourne.  Next 
morning  we  were  taken  up  to  the  wharf,  and  I  am 
glad  to  be  here  where  I  can  come  and  go  as  I  please. 
Father  is  busy,  and  I  have  been  unpacking  and 


250  OLD  CAPE  COD 

arranging  my  clothes,  room,  etc.  I  have  got  my  cabin 
carpeted  and  it  looks  quite  nice.  Mr.  Sinclair,  our 
passenger,  called  this  morning,  and  brought  me  some 
apples  and  pears  and  grapes  —  a  great  treat.  29th:  I 
intended  to  have  gone  to  Melbourne  shopping,  but 
received  an  invitation  from  Mr.  Osborn  to  go  to  tea 
and  the  opera  in  the  evening.  Some  of  the  singing  was 
good  and  the  scenery  was  beautiful.  I  cannot  compare 
it  with  American  opera  as  I  never  went  but  once  in 
my  life  and  have  forgotten  about  that.  This  is  a  great 
place  for  opera  and  theatre-going  people,  as  well  as 
spirit-drinking  people.  May  1st:  To-day  I  presume 
you  go  a-Maying."  And  now  Mother  had  her  shop- 
ping expedition,  and  notes  that  cotton  cloth  is  cheaper 
than  at  home.  "I  find  our  last  year's  goods  and  styles 
just  received  here,  and  of  about  the  same  price." 
Like  other  Americans  in  foreign  lands  she  is  a  little 
nettled  that  "they  know  in  a  moment  I  am  an  Amer- 
ican." The  next  week  being  rainy,  she  did  little  but 
"make  a  few  calls  upon  some  English  ladies";  and 
then  came  a  day  spent  at  South  Yarra  with  "the 
first  American  lady  I  had  seen  since  I  left  home.  I  was 
delighted  to  see  one  home  face,  and  she  seemed  as 
happy  to  see  me.  We  were  not  long  getting  acquainted, 
and  our  tongues  ran  fast  I  can  assure  you.  I  informed 
her  of  the  latest  fashions,  while  she  told  me  of  the 
points  of  interest  I  should  visit.  They  have  a  beauti- 
ful garden  and  I  took  lots  of  slips,  and  hope  to  fetch 
some  of  the  plants  home."  With  the  wife  of  a  New- 
buryport  captain  she  "went  to  Melbourne  to  see  what 
there  was  to  be  seen,"  and  there  was  more  gayety 


THE  CAPTAINS  251 

afoot.  "You  will  think  me  dissipating  largely  in  going 
to  operas  and  theatres.  I  think  I  am,  indeed,  but  as  I 
have  no  particular  regard  for  such  amusement  do  not 
think  I  shall  be  injured  by  going."  And  she  did  cer- 
tainly "see  what  there  was  to  be  seen."  Nothing  es- 
caped Mother's  observant  eye.  "I  cannot  begin  to 
tell  you  of  it  in  a  letter,"  she  writes,  "but  will  leave  it 
till  some  winter  evening  when  seated  around  our  little 
light-stand  at  home.  But  I  am  resolved  to  see  some- 
thing of  the  world  while  I  can." 

And  on  May  20,  it  was  up  anchor,  and  off  again: 
"It  seemed  almost  like  getting  home  and  we  soon 
got  under  weigh  and  bid  farewell  to  Melbourne.  We 
have  two  gentlemen  passengers  for  Calcutta,  and 
I  hope  we  shall  have  a  quick  passage.  I  have  en- 
joyed myself,  and  have  often  wished  you  were  with 
me  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  too.  Perhaps  some  day 
you  may  do  so,  if  you,  Nancy,  catch  a  sea-captain; 
and  you,  Clanrick,  may  be  a  merchant  here.  I  must 
now  bid  you  good-night,  with  much  love  and  kisses 
from  Father  and  Mother."  The  letter  was  off  to  them 
by  the  pilot,  and  Father  and  Mother  for  Calcutta 
where  their  visit  was  not  as  pleasant  as  at  Melbourne. 
Father  and  many  of  the  crew  were  ill.  "I  was  very 
anxious  indeed,"  writes  Mother  to  the  children,  "and 
was  thankful  to  have  some  home  friends  near.  Cap- 
tains Dunbar  and  Crowell  were  very  kind.  They  have 
done  all  of  Father's  business  they  possibly  could  so 
that  he  need  not  get  overdone."  The  sick  boys  among 
the  crew  are  a  particular  anxiety:  "They  are  so  care- 
less and  imprudent  of  themselves  that  I  fear  we  shall 


252  OLD  CAPE  COD 

not  bring  them  all  home  with  us.  They  will  not  hear 
to  reason,  but  will  eat  everything  which  comes  to 
hand  and  sleep  in  the  open  air  which  is  enough  to  kill 
any  one.  But  the  doctor  says  they  will  soon  be  well 
after  getting  to  sea.  We  are  obliged  to  wait  for  a 
steamer  as  by  Father's  being  ill  we  lost  our  turn;  but 
I  have  just  heard  that  one  is  engaged  to  take  us  down 
river  Friday.  I  have  formed  some  very  pleasant  ac- 
quaintances here,  but  have  not  met  any  American 
ladies.  Captain  Knowles  and  wife,  and  a  Captain 
Smith,  wife,  and  daughter  have  just  arrived.  I  am 
sorry  not  to  see  them.  Father  is  still  better,  and  is  now 
eating  his  dinner  of  chicken  soup  and  toast  bread 
after  which  he  will  ride  down  and  see  his  consignee. 
Do  not  give  yourself  any  uneasiness,  but  take  good 
care  of  yourselves.  I  must  now  leave  you  in  the  hands 
of  Him  Who  ever  watches  over  us,  and  trust  He  will 
preserve  us  all  and  restore  us  soon  to  our  loved 
home." 

Did  Mother  feel  that  the  best  of  their  voyaging  was 
over?  When  Father  returned  to  the  ship  that  night, 
he  had  a  letter  "containing  sad  news  from  Freeman," 
their  lad  who  had  thought  to  conquer  the  dread  white 
plague  by  the  hardships  of  a  seaman's  life,  and  who 
was  ill  at  Valencia.  But  Mother  was  not  one  to  spend 
the  long  weeks  of  their  return  voyage  to  Melbourne 
in  useless  repining,  and  her  Diary  shows  her  alert, 
as  ever,  to  "see  what  there  was  to  see."  They  made 
slow  progress  out  to  sea,  as  the  weather  was  hot 
and  calm.  "It  is  very  tedious  to  be  lying  here, 
although  we  have  company  near  us.  To-day  we  saw 


THE  CAPTAINS  253 

what  we  supposed  to  be  the  Ghats  Mountains  on 
the  eastern  coast  of  Hindustan."  And  steadily,  week 
after  week,  they  nosed  their  way  southward  again, 
and  on  October  26  she  could  write:  "It  has  been 
really  cold  this  week,  about  like  the  weather  at  home 
this  season.  I  sit  up  on  deck  all  the  morning,  and  have 
been  very  busy  this  week  turning  my  silk  dress."  It 
was  rough  weather  the  last  leg  of  their  journey,  "the 
ship  rolled  terribly  ";  and  Mother  was  none  too  good  a 
sailor.  When  they  hove  to  at  Port  Philip  Light  to 
take  on  the  pilot,  they  received  orders  to  proceed 
to  Sydney  to  discharge  their  cargo.  And  there  was  a 
letter  from  his  captain,  one  of  their  old  neighbors  at 
home,  confirming  their  worst  fears  in  regard  to  Free- 
man. He  had  died  at  Valencia,  and  was  buried  there, 
even  as  Mother  had  been  praying  that  another  year 
might  see  them  all  united  at  the  old  home.  There  was 
no  time  to  be  spent  in  idle  lamentation,  and  as  Father 
must  go  to  Melbourne,  so  would  she  go  also  to  be  near 
him.  They  landed,  rode  by  stage  twenty  miles  to 
Geelong  through  "a  very  dreary  country,"  thence  by 
railway  to  Melbourne  where  they  were  disappointed 
not  to  find  letters  from  home  at  the  consul's,  nor  was 
their  friend  Mr.  Osborn  to  be  found  that  day;  but 
they  breakfasted  with  him  the  next  morning,  when 
Father  accomplished  his  business,  and  by  afternoon 
they  were  on  the  wearisome  journey  back  to  Geelong 
and  Queen's  Cliff  where  the  ship  was  moored.  Indomi- 
table Mother  writes:  "It  was  a  beautiful  morning  and 
I  enjoyed  the  ride."  She  had  learned  the  subtlest  use  of 
life:  to  miss  none  of  its  beauty,  though  the  heart  were 


254  OLD  CAPE  COD 

breaking.  That  night,  before  they  sailed  for  Sydney, 
she  wrote  the  two  forlorn  children  at  home  —  a  long 
letter,  with  the  high  heart  of  courage,  knowing  that  it 
might  be  months  before  they  should  receive  it  and  the 
first  sting  of  their  sorrow  be  past :  a  letter  full  of  Chris- 
tian resignation  and  of  comfort. 

And  day  by  day,  recording  time  by  latitude  and 
longitude  at  sea,  ashore  by  day  and  month,  she  set 
down  in  the  Journal  for  the  interest  of  their  later 
reading,  what  she  did  and  what  she  saw.  Wilson's 
Point,  as  they  beat  round  to  Sydney  in  head  winds 
and  heavy  seas,  "would  be  a  terrible  place  to  be 
shipwrecked,"  she  thought.  And  at  Sydney  she  en- 
joyed things  as  she  could,  noting  the  weather  — 
there  had  been  no  rain  to  speak  of  for  sixteen  months 
—  living  on  shipboard,  but  taking  many  excursions 
and  meeting  pleasant  people  ashore,  and  remembering 
the  sermons  at  the  English  church,  and  the  markets, 
and  the  shops;  and  again,  one  afternoon,  alone,  "I 
went  a-cruising  to  see  what  I  could  see"  — among 
other  things,  in  the  Public  Gardens,  "some  beautiful 
plants  in  the  greenhouses.  The  greatest  variety  of 
fuchsia  I  ever  saw,  and  the  gardener  gave  me  some 
slips  to  take  home.  There  were  lots  of  birds  and 
animals  there,  and  I  saw  a  kangaroo."  And  some 
friends  took  them  out  to  Botany  Bay.  "It  was  a  terri- 
ble road  and  dreary  country  through  which  we  passed, 
but  there  was  a  beautiful  garden  adjoining  the  hotel 
and  I  walked  on  the  beach  and  got  a  few  shells.  Saw 
some  wild  animals,  and  returned  to  Sydney  at  seven 
o'clock.  I  enjoyed  it  very  much."  There  is  the  con- 


THE  CAPTAINS  255 

stant  note.  Delayed  in  their  sailing  by  storms,  they 
had  Christmas  dinner  at  the  consul's:  "a  very  nice 
dinner  consisting  of  roasted  goose,  boiled  turkey, 
boiled  ham,  cabbage,  string  beans,  and  potatoes." 
After  this  mighty  meal  the  company  took  steamer 
for  "a  resort  for  pleasure  parties  where  there  is  a  place 
called  the  Fairy  Bower  which  is  very  beautiful.  The 
winding  way  to  it  is  over  rocks  and  through  the  Bush. 
There  is  a  public  house  there  in  front  of  which  is  the 
Bay  and  on  either  side  and  at  the  back  are  high  rocky 
hills.  There  are  lovely  shells  on  the  beach.  It  is  a 
very  romantic  spot." 

On  the  twenty-sixth,  "Boxing  Day  at  Sydney," 
she  writes,  they  sailed  early,  and  by  afternoon  "it 
blew  very  fresh  and  I  was  obliged  to  go  to  bed,  being 
a  little  seasick."  On  the  eighth,  in  a  fair  wind,  she  re- 
members that  it  is  just  a  year  since  they  left  Boston. 
On  the  nineteenth  they  were  rounding  Cape  Leeuwin, 
and  after  a  week  of  heavy  swell  and  variable  winds 
"we  took  the  trades.  Very  pleasant  and  fine  steady 
trades,  which  we  appreciate."  So  through  fair  weather 
and  storms,  starlight  nights  and  sultry  days,  they 
came  to  Calcutta  once  more,  and  the  steamer  took 
them  upstream,  and  their  old  friends  welcomed 
them. 

And  there,  incredibly,  plucky  little  Mother,  who 
could  not  have  believed  that  she  would  not  be  in  the 
world  to  serve  any  one  of  them  while  they  had  need  of 
her,  sickened  with  the  deadly  cholera  and  died.  And 
Father,  heartsick  and  alone,  is  sailing  southward  once 
more,  this  time  for  home.  As  the  pilot  takes  him  down- 


256  OLD  CAPE  COD 

stream,  he  is  writing  the  son  and  daughter  at  Cape 
Cod.  "I  am  seated  here  alone  in  my  cabin  where  your 
mother  and  I  have  spent  many  pleasant  hours  and 
taken  sweet  counsel  together,  with  everything  around 
me  to  remind  me  of  her.  Here  sets  her  chair,  and  there 
her  trunk  and  clothes  and  everything  as  she  left  it." 
(We  wonder  if  the  "  slips  "  she  had  taken  at  Melbourne 
and  Sydney  are  blooming  yet.)  "Oh,  my  dear,  dear 
children,  how  much  I  have  to  feel  and  suffer.  Your 
mother  was  thinking  much  of  coming  home  to  you 
again,  but  her  spirit  is  with  those  in  heaven.  She  spoke 
much  of  Nancy  and  Clanrick  before  she  died,  and 
said  be  sure  to  give  Nancy  my  watch,  and  buy  one 
for  Clanrick  and  tell  him  it  was  his  mother's  request. 
I  hope  you  will  find  a  home  at  the  Cape  somewhere 
till  my  return.  Clanrick,  be  a  good  boy  and  kind  to 
your  sister;  and  try  to  cheer  one  another  up  in  your 
heavy  affliction.  I  soon  expect  to  discharge  the  pilot. 
Good-morning,  my  dear  children.  God  bless  you. 
Your  own  afflicted  Father." 

Father  seems  to  have  been  of  no  such  indomitable 
fibre  as  Mother.  Perhaps  for  too  many  decades  the 
sea  had  had  its  will  of  him,  and  for  too  many  times, 
before  this  last  voyage  that  had  been  so  beautifully 
companioned,  he  had  suffered  the  loneliness  of  long 
months  afloat.  Yet  Father,  in  his  youth,  had  been 
one  of  the  gayest  lads  in  town;  within  an  hour  of  his 
arrival  from  sea,  he  was  in  and  out  of  every  house 
there,  with  a  joke  for  the  old  ladies,  and  a  new  story 
for  the  cap'ns,  a  song  for  the  girls,  and  a  new  style 
for  the  lads.  Then  he  had  taken  on  a  steady  pilot  in 


THE  CAPTAINS  257 

Susan,  his  wife,  and  had  steered  straight  through  all 
their  years  together.  He  adored  his  children,  and 
gave  them  perhaps  more  pleasures  than  he  could  well 
afford;  for  somehow,  although  he  was  an  able  captain 
and  trader,  riches  had  never  come  his  way.  Men  said 
he  was  a  free-spender,  and  ought  to  have  saved.  And 
now,  in  his  broken  state,  after  a  few  weeks  with  the 
children  in  the  old  home  among  the  willows  and  lilacs, 
he  must  be  off  again  to  earn  money  for  them  all,  this 
time  on  a  coasting  voyage,  Boston  to  "New-Orleens." 
And  at  sea,  with  far  too  much  time  for  reflection,  he 
is  writing  his  loved  daughter:  "I  hoped  I  never  should 
be  drifting  about  the  ocean  again,  but  here  I  am,  and 
no  one  but  my  Heavenly  Father  knows  what  my 
destiny  is.  When  I  look  back  on  the  past  two  years, 
it  seems  all  a  dream:  our  dear  Freeman  pining  away 
in  a  foreign  land,  and  longing  to  get  home  once  more, 
poor  boy.  And  your  mother  in  her  last  moments  per- 
fectly calm  and  serene,  not  one  murmur  or  complaint. 
I  have  tried  to  bear  up  the  best  I  could,  but  it  has 
been  dreadful  hard.  Perhaps  I  do  not  realize  my  bless- 
ings, but  I  do  have  many  —  I  Ve  been  restored  to 
health  better  than  I  ever  expected  to  be,  and  I  have 
two  fine  children,  and  can  make  me  a  comfortable 
home." 

Poor  tender-hearted  Father,  struggling  to  count 
his  "blessings."  The  voyage  to  "New-Orleens"  was 
not  one  of  his  most  prosperous,  he  had  lost  the  magic 
touch  of  success ;  nor  was  health  as  firmly  restored  as 
he  supposed:  that  old  fever  at  Calcutta,  the  sorrows 
that  followed,  had  broken  more  than  his  spirit,  and  he 


258  OLD  CAPE  COD 

returned  only  in  time  to  die  at  home  —  happy,  at 
the  last,  to  have  made  that  familiar  haven.  And  for- 
tunate beyond  many  of  his  fellows.  For  there  was 
a  reverse  to  the  old  tales  of  daring  and  adventure; 
and  many  a  man,  long  before  age  should  cool  the  ar- 
dors of  his  hot-blooded  youth,  had  died  in  a  foreign 
port,  or  on  shipboard;  and  many  a  memorial  stone 
records  that  such  a  one  died  at  Panama  or  Madras  or 
Bassein,  at  Sourbaya  or  Batavia  or  Truxillo,  or  at 
Aden.  And  there  is  the  longer  list  of  those  "lost  at 
sea,"  when  wives  and  sweethearts  waited  through 
heartsick  months  and  years  for  the  word  that  never 
came.  Yet  those  at  sea  and  those  ashore  found  their 
strength  in  the  old  faith:  "Ye  see  when  the  mariner  is 
entered  his  ship  to  saile  on  the  troublous  sea,  how  he 
is  for  a  while  tossed  in  the  billows  of  the  same,  but 
yet  in  hope  that  he  shall  come  to  the  quiet  haven,  he 
beareth  in  better  comfort  the  perils  which  he  feeleth; 
so  am  I  now  toward  this  sayling:  and  whatsoever 
stormes  I  shall  feele,  yet  shortly  after  shall  my  ship 
be  in  the  haven,  as  I  doubt  not  thereof  by  the  grace 
of  God,  desiring  you  to  helpe  me  with  your  prayers 
to  the  same  effect." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  COUNTY 

I 

THE  "retired"  sea-captain,  if  he  had  been  too  free- 
handed to  grow  rich,  or  had  missed  his  chance  of 
success  through  practising  small  shrewdnesses  rather 
than  large,  often  earned  his  living  ashore  as  post- 
master, or  "deepo-master,"  or  he  ran  the  tavern,  or 
the  village  store  that  supplied  the  inhabitants  with 
any  obtainable  commodity.  In  any  case,  as  gentleman 
farmer  or  one  of  lower  social  rank,  he  fitted  easily 
into  the  life  at  home  which,  in  comparison  with  that 
of  an  inland  town,  was  cosmopolitan  by  reason  of 
constant  interchange  with  countries  beyond  the  sea. 
Men  had  a  wider  outlook:  though  they  might  never 
*'go  to  Boston,"  which  was  the  minimum  adven- 
ture of  the  community,  they  were  familiar  with  far 
scenes  discussed  of  an  evening  among  the  frequenters 
of  post-office  or  store.  And  if  all  sailors  did  not  be- 
come captains,  though  the  contrary  may  seem  to  us 
to  have  been  the  fact,  it  was  the  exception  when  an 
able-bodied  male  had  not  gone  at  least  one  "voyage 
to  sea."  The  normal  Cape  Cod  boy  looked  upon  the 
ocean  as  his  natural  theatre  of  action.  If  he  could 
wheedle  his  mother  into  consent,  he  was  off  at  the 
tender  age  of  ten,  or  as  soon  thereafter  as  might  be, 
to  serve  as  cabin  boy  with  their  neighbor  the  cap  'n. 


260  OLD  CAPE  COD 

It  is  even  said  of  one  child  that  by  the  time  he  had 
reached  his  tenth  birthday  "he  was  old  enough  not 
to  be  seasick,  not  to  cry  during  a  storm,  and  to  be  of 
some  use  about  a  ship."  From  the  galley  he  might  be 
promoted  to  the  fo'c's'le;  from  there,  if  luck  and 
temper  served,  to  the  quarter-deck.  A  captain's  letter 
to  his  little  daughter  tells  us  something  of  the  relation 
between  captain  and  crew.  Discipline  was  strict,  but 
"the  old  man"  did  not  forget  that  they  were  all 
neighbors  at  home.  "We  have  plenty  of  music  in  the 
forecastle,"  he  writes,  "but  I  wish  I  had  you  all  with 
me  and  the  seraphine  and  then  we  could  have  a  good 
sing.  There  is  a  violin-player  and  one  of  the  best 
players  on  the  accordion  I  ever  heard,  and  they  go 
it  some  evenings,  I  tell  you,  and  have  a  regular  good 
dance.  They  have  their  balls  about  twice  a  week,  and 
I  can  hear  them  calling  off  their  cotillion  and  having 
a  merry  time  of  it.  I  wish  you  could  see  them  going  it 
for  awhile.  Daniel  plays  the  bones  and  a  young  man 
from  Barnstable  is  the  musician.  I  like  my  crew  very 
much  so  far  and  hope  they  will  continue  the  voyage 
and  improve." 

As  cabin  boy,  forem'st  hand,  able  seaman,  mate, 
or  captain,  on  merchant  vessel  or  fisherman,  every 
man  Jack  in  the  village  was  pretty  sure  to  have  had 
his  taste  of  the  sea,  and  thereby  was  equipped  to  con- 
tribute his  story  to  the  common  fund  of  anecdote. 
With  truth  he  could  say  "I  am  a  part  of  all  that  I 
have  met."  And  whether  they  had  followed  the  sea 
for  one  year  or  forty,  or  vicariously  through  the  ex- 
perience of  others,  each  of  them  had  a  tang  of  "the 


THE  COUNTY  261 

old  salt";  and  their  home  was  set  in  the  ocean  as  surely 
as  if  Cape  Cod  were  another  Saint  Helena  breaking 
the  long  Atlantic  rollers  that  come  sweeping  down  the 
world.  Many  a  time,  indeed,  it  must  have  seemed  to 
swing  to  their  stories  like  the  deck  of  a  ship,  and  the 
dry  land  under  foot  to  be  stable  only  because  one  was 
braced  to  its  motion.  For  most  of  the  men,  all  the 
sea  ways  about  the  world  were  as  familiar  as  the 
village  road  around  the  ponds.  Daniel  Webster  once 
wrote  some  friends  in  Dennis  of  a  trial  in  their  district 
when  question  arose  as  to  the  entrance  of  the  harbor 
of  Owhyhee:  "The  counsel  for  the  opposite  party 
proposed  to  call  witnesses  to  give  information  to  the 
jury.  I  at  once  saw  a  smile  which  I  thought  I  under- 
stood, and  suggested  to  the  judge  that  very  probably 
some  of  my  jury  had  seen  the  entrance  themselves. 
Upon  which  seven  out  of  the  twelve  arose  and  said 
they  were  quite  familiarly  acquainted  with  it,  having 
seen  it  often." 

Every  boy  had  some  grounding  in  the  common 
branches  of  study  at  the  schools  which  his  Pilgrim 
ancestors  had  been  at  pains  to  establish;  but  given 
the  three  R's,  his  education  was  expanded  in  the 
larger  school  of  personal  adventure.  Rich  gives  a 
quick  biography  typical  of  the  Truro  fisherman: 
"Till  ten  in  summer  —  a  barefoot  boy,  tough,  wide- 
awake —  hoes,  clams,  fishes,  swims,  goes  to  the  red 
schoolhouse  taught  by  the  village  schoolmarm.  After 
ten,  on  board  a  fishing  vessel  cooking  for  nine  or  ten 
men;  at  thirteen  a  hand;  goes  to  the  same  school- 
house  three  months  or  less  every  winter  till  seventeen 


262  OLD  CAPE  COD 

or  eighteen;  graduates.  At  twenty-one  marries;  goes 
skipper;  twenty-five  buys  a  vessel  and  builds  a  house, 
or  has  been  looking  around  the  world  to  make  a 
change.  Whatever  may  be  the  experiences  of  after 
life,  the  early  history  of  Cape  Cod  boys  could  be 
summed  substantially  as  stated." 

This  matter  of  an  elementary  education,  in  the 
early  days,  was  frequently  undertaken  by  men  whose 
work  was  cut  out  for  them  to  keep  their  own  knowl- 
edge a  little  in  advance  of  their  scholars.  There  was 
Mr.  Hawes,  schoolmaster  of  Yarmouth  in  the  later 
years  of  the  eighteenth  century,  who  gloried  in  the 
fact  that 

"The  little  learning  I  have  gained, 
Was  most  from  simple  nature  drained." 

He  had  worked  on  the  farm  and  managed  his  own 
schooling  when  the  only  textbooks  were  the  Bible  and 
Catechism.  "When  the  Spelling  Book  was  first  in- 
troduced," he  remarks  dryly,  "the  good  old  ladies  ap- 
peared to  fear  that  religion  would  be  banished  from 
the  world."  Hawes,  however,  undertook  the  pursuit 
of  the  higher  learning,  and  once  had  a  sum  set  him  in 
the  "Single  Rule  of  Three"  that  cost  him  three  days' 
work  in  the  solving  of  it.  "I  went  often  to  the  woods 
and  gathered  pine  knots  for  candles,"  he  remembers. 
"At  this  time  I  lived  with  my  aged  grandfather,  who 
had  a  liberal  education,  but  was  in  low  circumstances, 
and  I  could  learn  more  in  his  chimney-corner  with  my 
pine  candle,  in  one  evening,  than  I  could  at  school  in  a 
week."  Discipline  was  administered  by  means  of  an 


THE  COUNTY  263 

apple-tree  branch,  and  "as  soon  as  the  master  re- 
tired from  school,  every  instrument  of  correction  or 
torture  would  by  the  scholars  be  destroyed."  In  the 
Bible  class,  "while  each  scholar  would  mention  the 
number  and  read  one  verse,"  the  master  would  be 
making  pens,  and  the  other  children  most  likely 
"playing  pins,  or  matching  coppers."  Hawes,  at  the 
age  of  seventeen,  had  "advanced  in  Arithmetic  about 
as  far  as  Square  and  Cube  Root,"  and  by  his  own 
industry  "gained  some  knowledge  of  Navigation," 
when  the  Revolution  interrupted  his  studies,  and, 
promptly  enlisting,  he  served  in  the  land  force  for 
three  years,  and  then  took  to  the  sea.  He  sailed  in 
no  less  than  five  vessels  that  were  captured,  but  re- 
marks that  he  was  never  prisoner  more  than  two 
months  running;  and  at  the  close  of  the  Revolution 
he  felt  qualified  to  set  up  as  schoolmaster  ashore. 
His  account  probably  gives  an  accurate  picture  of  the 
public  education  of  the  day.  "I  commenced  teaching 
school  in  Yarmouth,"  he  writes,  "at  seven  dollars 
per  month,  and  boarded  myself,  which  was  then  about 
equal  to  seaman's  wages  in  Boston;  and  I  occasionally 
taught  town  and  private  schools  in  Barnstable  and 
Yarmouth,  when  not  at  sea.  The  highest  wages  I  ever 
had  was  thirty-five  dollars  per  month;  and  the  last 
school  I  taught  was  in  Barnstable,  and  was  then  in 
my  sixtieth  year.  Now  I  will  state  my  own  method  of 
school  teaching  with  from  sixty  to  ninety  pupils,  viz : 
The  first  and  last  hours  were  generally  spent  in  read- 
ing, the  middle  hours  in  writing.  Those  in  arithmetic 
would  read  with  the  others  when  they  pleased.  Hav- 


264  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ing  one  class  in  school,  every  scholar,  at  my  word 
'Next/  would  arise  and  read  in  his  seat,  till  I  pro- 
nounced the  word  'Next,'  and  I  often  stopped  him  in 
the  middle  of  a  verse.  After  reading  around,  I  would 
order  another  book,  more  proper  for  the  scholars 
present,  as  before,  and  then  in  four  or  five  different 
books  till  the  hour  expired.  Then  I  gave  out  the 
copies  and  made  as  many  mend  their  pens  as  could. 
If  they  had  no  ink-stands,  which  was  the  case  with 
many,  I  would  send  one  after  shells,  and  put  cot- 
ton therein.  The  ink  I  found  and  charged  it  to  the 
school.  I  likewise  set  at  auction  who  would  make  the 
fire  cheapest,  say  for  one  month,  which  would  go  at 
about  one  cent  a  day.  While  they  were  writing  in  the 
second  form,  I  would  hear  the  little  ones  read  alone, 
who  could  not  read  in  classes.  Seventeen  was  the 
greatest  number  I  think  I  ever  had  of  them.  When 
school  was  about  half  done  one  scholar  was  sent  for  a 
bucket  of  water,"  and  then,  no  doubt  from  one  dip- 
per, did  they  all,  girls  first,  then  boys,  unhygienically 
drink.  "Those  in  Arithmetic  having  books  of  differ- 
ent authors,  got  their  own  sums,  wrote  off  their  own 
rules,  &c.  If  they  wanted  to  make  inquiries  concern- 
ing questions,"  Mr.  Hawes  goes  on  to  say,  "and  the 
scholar  next  him  could  show  him,  I  would  request  him 
to;  if  not,  if  I  had  time,  I  would  explain  the  principles 
by  which  the  sum  was  to  be  done.  If  he  then  met  with 
difficulty,  I  directed  him  to  take  it  home,  and  study 
late  at  night  to  have  his  answer  in  the  morning.  When 
I  dismissed  the  school  I  would  examine  each  one's 
writing  book.  ...  I  was  too  much  in  favor  of  the 


THE  COUNTY  265 

Friends'  principles  to  require  any  bowing,  and  left 
that  discretionary  with  each  scholar." 

In  schools  as  rudimentary  as  this  were  trained  the 
men  whose  energy  was  to  accomplish  the  greatest 
prosperity  of  the  Cape.  A  majority  of  the  boys  were 
too  busily  employed  in  helping  to  extract  the  family 
livelihood  from  the  soil  and  the  sea  to  be  allowed 
studies  beyond  those  useful  for  such  a  purpose;  yet 
almost  immediately  the  free  schools  were  supple- 
mented, at  Yarmouth  and  Sandwich  and  Barnstable, 
by  seminaries  and  academies,  where  Greek,  Latin, 
French,  and  the  higher  mathematics  were  taught.  In 
1840  the  Truro  Academy  was  founded  under  the  di- 
rectorship of  a  wise  teacher  who  raised  the  standard 
of  education  in  all  the  towns  about.  And  there  was 
the  Pine  Grove  Seminary,  conducted  by  Mr.  Sidney 
Brooks  at  Harwich,  and  beloved  of  its  scholars:  for 
Mr.  Brooks  not  only  encouraged  learning,  but  was  a 
promoter  of  innocent  pleasure.  His  pupils  were  to  re- 
member Saturday  excursions  to  Long  Pond,  sailing 
there  in  summer  and  ice-boating  in  winter;  and  Mr. 
Brooks  permitted  tableaux  and  dancing  in  the  hall, 
even  were  there  a  brisk  revival  in  progress  at  the 
meeting-house  across  the  way.  The  pupils  of  Mr. 
Smith,  of  Brewster,  who  died  in  1842,  remember  that 
he  was  "successful  in  making  the  dullest  learn,"  and 
also  recall  that  "Ferula  disciplinse  sceptrum  erat." 

The  elegancies  of  the  Early  Victorian  era  — 
French,  deportment,  fine  needlework,  sewing  and 
embroidery,  bead  and  shell  work,  the  making  of  wax 
flowers,  sketching  in  pencil  and  watercolors  —  were 


266  OLD  CAPE  COD 

taught  the  young  ladies  by  private  instruction.  Their 
culture  was  continued  in  the  Lyceum  and  Female 
Reading  Society.  Anne  C.  Lynch  and  Martin  Tupper 
were  the  fashion;  and  they  read  largely  literature 
commended  in  the  "Lady's  Book,"  to  which  every 
household  with  any  pretension  to  gentility  sub- 
scribed. Mr.  Godey  averred  that  his  magazine  should 
be  "a  shrine  for  the  offerings  of  those  who  wish  to 
promote  the  mental,  moral,  and  religious  improve- 
ment of  woman.  For  female  genius  it  is  the  appropri- 
ate sphere.  It  will  contain  a  new  and  elegant  engrav- 
ing in  every  number  —  also  music  and  patterns  for 
ladies'  muslin  work  and  other  embellishments."  The 
Cape  Cod  female  mind  took  on  with  some  readiness 
this  shining  veneer,  but  its  native  vigor  remained  un- 
impaired; and  women  conducted  their  domestic  af- 
fairs, or  their  social  amenities  at  home  and  in  foreign 
ports,  as  became  the  wives  of  their  sailor  husbands. 
At  Barnstable  and  thereabouts  domestic  service  was 
supplied  sometimes  by  the  village  girls,  sometimes 
by  the  Mashpee  Indians.  An  old  lady  remembers  her 
nurse  Dinah,  a  tall,  handsome  creature  belonging  to 
the  clan  of  "Judge"  Greenough,  who  governed  his 
people  with  wisdom  and  good  sense;  and  she  recalls 
a  story  of  the  days  when  the  mail  arrived  by  post- 
rider  and  an  old  squaw  held  up  the  embarrassed  car- 
rier to  beg  a  ride.  He  permitted  her  to  mount,  but, 
putting  his  horse  to  the  canter,  hoped  to  shake  her  off 
before  he  reached  the  town.  To  no  end :  she  clung  like 
a  leech,  and  called  out  cheerily,  "That's  right,  massa. 
Go  it!  When  I  ride  I  love  to  ride!"  It  is  easy  to  be 


THE  COUNTY  267 

diverted  by  such  anecdotes.  With  all  their  seeming 
primness,  the  people  had  a  rollicking  humor,  of  which 
countenances  hidden  in  coal-scuttle  bonnets  and  chins 
rigid  in  portentous  stocks  were  no  index. 

Manners  were  at  their  finest  and  best,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  them  often  bears  a  charming  simplicity 
of  thought  if  not  of  word.  Such  is  Mr.  Freeman's 
memory  of  an  old  lady  who  had  been  kind  to  him.  In 
a  footnote  of  his  history  he  corrects  a  deplorable  error 
in  the  text:  "We  were  led,  by  intelligence  communi- 
cated hi  good  faith  by  one  whose  relations  to  the  per- 
son gave  to  his  announcement  the  assurance  of  au- 
thority, to  state  that  a  venerable  and  most  estimable 
lady  was  deceased.  We  are  grateful  that  it  is  an  error. 
Long  may  that  excellent  woman  survive,  the  admira- 
tion of  her  friends.  We  have  remembered  her  with 
respect  ever  since  the  day  she  loaned  to  us,  then  a 
little  boy,  a  beautifully  illustrated  Natural  History, 
kindly  proffered  with  commendations  and  other  en- 
couraging words ;  and  had  we  the  skill  of  a  limner,  we 
could  now  portray  those  features  marked  with  in- 
tellectuality and  benevolence  when,  with  attaching 
manners,  she  made  her  little  friend  so  happy."  Free- 
man says  elsewhere:  "If  the  manners  of  the  age  were 
simple,  they  were  not  rough;  nor  was  the  rusticity  of 
the  less  influential  devoid  of  that  polish  which  the 
few  who  gave  tone  to  society,  unassuming  and  unen- 
vied,  diffused  among  the  masses." 

All  through  the  clipper-ship  era,  the  importance  of 
the  Cape  steadily  grew.  She  built  ships  at  her  own 
wharves  and  docked  them  there,  and  in  the  eighteen- 


268  OLD  CAPE  COD 

forties  she  even  had  her  own  custom-house  at  Barn- 
stable,  although  it  cleared  but  one  ship,  and  the 
building  was  turned  into  a  town  hall.  Wharves,  har- 
bor improvements,  lighthouses  were  built  where  they 
were  most  needed.  In  1830  the  Union  Wharf  was 
built  at  Pamet  Harbor  by  the  toil  of  the  shareholders 
in  the  enterprise,  each  of  whom  held  but  one  share 
and  each  of  whom  must  wheel  his  proportion  of  sand 
to  fill  the  bulkheads.  A  committee  was  appointed  to 
supervise  the  work  and  see  that  there  was  no  shirking; 
and  Rich  tells  us  that  some  of  the  younger  members 
of  the  company  were  "willing  to  work  harder  than 
wheeling  sand"  to  invite  the  charge  of  shirking  and 
fasten  that  charge  upon  some  man  "who  felt  that 
neglecting  his  duty  was  nearly  a  crime."  At  any  price 
they  must  have  their  fun,  and  lampooned  certain 
bumptious  members  of  the  company  in  doggerel  that 
followed  them  to  their  grave.  In  1825  a  flint-glass 
factory  that  became  famous  for  its  beautiful  output 
was  founded  at  Sandwich  —  "glass-works  to  improve 
its  sand,"  is  Thoreau's  gibe.  The  salt-works  flourished, 
there  were  several  cotton  and  woollen  mills,  banks 
and  insurance  companies  and  newspapers  were  estab- 
lished. But  the  Civil  War  put  an  end  to  this  expansion: 
vessels  that  were  destroyed  then  or  had  rotted  at 
the  wharves  through  disuse  were  never  replaced;  and 
in  any  event  the  war  had  but  given  the  coup  dc  grace 
to  trade  by  sailing  ships  that  the  development  of 
steam  and  rails  was  sure  to  weaken.  Cape  Cod 
soldiers  who  had  followed  the  sea  returned  from  the 
war  to  find  their  business  gone,  and  many  energetic 


THE  COUNTY  269 

men  had  to  look  elsewhere  for  careers.  They  found 
them;  and  there  is  hardly  a  great  city  in  the  country 
that  does  not  owe  something  of  its  prosperity  to  these 
men  and  their  children.  It  is  interesting  that  to-day 
the  old  determination  to  succeed  in  the  circumstances 
offered  is  reviving,  and  men  are  beginning  to  see  that 
they  need  not  travel  far  afield  to  make  a  living.  There 
is  one  of  the  best  intensive  farms  in  the  State  at  Truro; 
a  model  farm  of  twelve  thousand  acres  is  being  de- 
veloped at  the  other  extremity  of  the  Cape;  there  is  a 
great  duck-raising  farm,  and  asparagus  farms  at  East- 
ham.  And  why  should  not  sheep-raising  be  revived 
on  the  moors  of  Truro,  and  Eastham  become  a  gran- 
ary once  more? 

Those  men  who  remained  at  home  after  the  Civil 
War  became  again,  for  the  most  part,  farmers  and 
fishermen,  and  the  humble  native  cranberry  was  to 
do  as  much  for  their  prosperity  as  had  the  salt-works 
for  their  fathers.  Back  in  1677  the  Massachusetts  col- 
onists who  had  taken  it  upon  themselves  to  coin  the 
"pine-tree  shillings,"  sought  to  appease  the  displeas- 
ure of  King  Charles  by  sending  him,  with  two  hogs- 
heads of  samp  and  three  thousand  codfish,  ten  bar- 
rels of  cranberries.  But  it  was  not  until  1816  that  their 
cultivation  was  seriously  undertaken.  Then  Henry 
Hall,  of  Dennis,  first  succeeded  with  his  artificial 
"swamp";  four  men  of  Harwich  closely  followed, 
and  the  business  grew  until  thousands  of  acres  were 
developed,  and,  crowded  on  the  Cape,  it  worked  out 
to  larger  scope  in  Plymouth  County.  The  picture  of 
these  swamps,  flat  as  a  floor,  intersected  by  drainage 


270  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ditches,  surrounded  usually  by  wild  hedges  that  teem 
with  color,  is  one  of  the  most  familiar  to  the  Cape.  In 
winter,  when  they  are  often  flooded,  they  add  count- 
less little  lakes  to  the  number  summer  gives  us;  or 
their  vines  offer  the  smooth  red  of  eastern  looms  to 
brighten  the  pale  northern  scene  until  spring  turns 
them  green  once  more.  A  new  swamp  shows  gleaming 
sand  through  the  regular  planting  of  the  vines;  on 
one  that  "bears,"  crimson  berries,  in  early  autumn, 
hang  thick  on  the  glossy  dark-green  runnels.  And 
then  the  swamps  are  charming  centres  of  activity: 
women  in  bright  sunbonnets,  men  in  soft  shirts  and 
caps,  move  swiftly  on  their  knees  up  the  roped-off 
aisles  as  they  scoop  the  berries  into  shining  tin 
measures,  and  a  good  picker  earns  a  considerable 
number  of  dollars  in  the  day.  There  is  the  sound  of 
talk  and  laughter,  and  the  patter  of  berries  as  they 
are  "screened"  of  refuse  and  swept  into  barrels.  The 
sun  brings  out  the  last  tint  of  color,  the  atmosphere 
is  like  a  crystal  goblet  of  heady  wine:  it  is  the  homely 
festa  of  the  Cape  at  its  most  beautiful  season  of  the 
year. 

n 

FROM  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  the 
towns  were  drawn  into  increasingly  close  connec- 
tion with  the  larger  world.  The  mails  came  to  them 
first  a-horseback,  then  by  stage,  then  by  the  railway 
which  gradually  nosed  its  way  to  the  tip  of  the  Cape. 
Telegraph  followed  railway,  and  then,  until  the  late 
war,  the  great  Marconi  station  and  the  cable  talked 


THE  MEADOWS 


THE  COUNTY  271 

with  countries  oversea.  Freeman  reflects  upon  the 
blessings  of  rapid  transportation  in  his  day  when  "we 
are  now,  in  1859,  in  more  intimate  and  close  contact 
with  Berkshire  and  even  Maine,  in  fact  with  New 
York  and  Pennsylvania,  than  the  Cape  was  with 
Plymouth  during  all  the  time  that  it  remained  the  seat 
of  justice.  It  is  easier  from  the  extremest  town  on  the 
Cape  now  to  visit  Boston  and  return,  than  it  was 
once  to  perform  the  necessary  act  of  domestic  prep- 
aration by  carrying  a  grist  from  Sandwich  to  Ply- 
mouth to  be  ground.  Nor  have  we  forgotten  that  im- 
portant character,  the  post-rider,  who  took  the  entire 
mail  in  his  saddle-bags  (and  lean  they  were  too)  and 
occupied  the  week  in  going  down  the  Cape  and  re- 
turning. The  clock  could  not  better  indicate  the  hour 
of  5  P.M.,  than  did  the  regular  appearance  of  Mr. 
Terry  on  his  slow,  but  sure  and  well-fed  horse  (the 
horses  of  the  Friends  are  always  well  kept  and  sleek, 
and  possibly  their  capacity  for  swiftness  of  locomo- 
tion was  never  put  to  the  test)  with  his  diminutive 
saddle-bags  that  seemed  to  challenge  the  observation 
of  every  one  touching  the  question  of  their  entire 
emptiness,  every  Friday  afternoon.  The  facilities  now 
afforded  by  railroads,  stage-coaches,  cheap  postage, 
&c.,. contrast  strangely  with  former  times." 

Mr.  Swift,  in  his  "Old  Yarmouth,"  tells  us  some- 
thing of  those  facilities:  "The  all-day's  journey  from 
Boston  to  the  Cape  is  remembered  with  recollections 
of  pleasure,  in  spite  of  its  inconvenience  and  weari- 
some length.  Starting  at  early  dawn,  and  the  parties 
made  up  of  persons  of  all  stations  and  degrees  of 


272  OLD  CAPE  COD 

social  life,  the  stage  coach  was  a  levelling  and  demo- 
cratic institution.  The  numerous  stopping  places, 
along  the  route,  gave  ample  opportunity  for  the  ex- 
change of  news,  opinions,  and  to  partake  of  the  good 
cheer  of  the  various  taverns."  The  liquid  portion  of 
that  "good  cheer,"  by  the  way,  was  only  too  liberally 
distributed,  and  in  1817  no  less  than  seventeen  re- 
tailers were  privileged  to  quench  the  thirst  of  northern 
Yarmouth.  Such  abuse  led  to  reform;  and  a  temper- 
ance society  was  founded  whose  pledge  was  not  too 
exacting:  no  member,  "except  in  case  of  sickness, 
shall  drink  any  distilled  spirit  or  wine,  in  any  house 
in  town  except  .  .  .  the  one  in  which  he  resides."  And 
the  town  voted  "not  to  approbate  a  retailer,  but  to 
approbate  one  taverner  for  the  accommodation  of 
travellers." 

Thoreau,  on  his  famous  journey  to  the  Cape,  when 
inclement  weather  forced  him  to  coach  between 
Sandwich  and  Orleans,  was  pleased  not  at  all  in  re- 
spect of  the  utilities  of  the  towns,  but  bears  testi- 
mony, as  a  philosopher,  to  the  extenuating  attributes 
of  their  inhabitants.  The  opinion  has  been  quoted 
often,  and  is  worth  quoting  again:  "I  was  struck  by 
the  pleasant  equality  which  reigned  among  the  stage 
company,  and  their  broad  and  invulnerable  good  hu- 
mor. They  were  what  is  called  free  and  easy,  and  met 
one  another  to  advantage,  as  men  who  had,  at  length, 
learned  how  to  live.  They  appeared  to  know  each  other 
when  they  were  strangers,  they  were  so  simple  and 
downright.  They  were  well  met,  in  an  unusual  sense, 
that  is,  they  met  as  well  as  they  could  meet,  and  did  not 


THE  COUNTY  273 

seem  to  be  troubled  with  any  impediment.  They  were 
not  afraid  nor  ashamed  of  one  another,  but  were  con- 
tented to  make  just  such  a  company  as  the  ingredients 
allowed.  It  was  evident  that  the  same  foolish  respect 
was  not  here  claimed,  for  mere  wealth  and  station, 
that  is  in  many  parts  of  New  England;  yet  some  of 
them  were  the  'first  people/  as  they  were  called,  of  the 
various  towns  through  which  we  passed.  Retired  sea- 
captains,  in  easy  circumstances,  who  talked  of  farm- 
ing as  sea-captains  are  wont;  an  erect,  respectable 
and  trustworthy-looking  man,  in  his  wrapper,  some 
of  the  salt  of  the  earth,  who  had  formerly  been  the 
salt  of  the  sea;  or  a  more  courtly  gentleman,  who, 
perchance,  had  been  a  representative  to  the  General 
Court  in  his  day;  or  a  broad,  red-faced,  Cape  Cod 
man,  who  had  seen  too  many  storms  to  be  easily  irri- 
tated. "  In  short,  Thoreau's  Cape-Codders  were  cos- 
mopolitan creatures,  men  of  the  world  that  he  was 
so  ready  to  despise. 

Until  the  railway  was  continued  "down  the  Cape," 
travellers  there  were  far  more  likely  to  make  their 
journeys  to  and  from  Boston  by  the  packets  than  by 
stage.  "For  fifty  years,"  writes  Swift,  "the  arrival 
and  departure  of  the  packets  was  the  important  topic 
of  North  side  intelligence,  which  was  communicated 
promptly  to  the  dwellers  on  the  South  side,  that  they 
might  govern  themselves  thereby  in  arranging  their 
business  or  their  travels."  There  are  pretty  stories  of 
voyages  on  the  packets:  of  the  little  girl,  wide-eyed 
with  expectation,  in  big  bonnet  and  mitts,  and  a 
flowered  bandbox  for  luggage,  who  is  entrusted  to  the 


274  OLD  CAPE  COD 

captain  for  safe  delivery  into  the  hands  of  her  kinsmen 
in  Boston.  One  old  lady,  whose  histrionic  sense  de- 
veloped early,  remembered  that  once  when  she  was 
visiting  Boston  as  a  child  there  was  a  smallpox  epi- 
demic. "I  couldn't  help  laughing,"  said  she,  "to 
think  if  I  had  got  it  and  died,  how  grand  it  would  have 
been  to  be  brought  home  by  the  packet,  me  on  board 
sailing  up  the  harbor  with  colors  half-mast."  There 
were  young  ladies  setting  out  for  their  finishing-school 
in  the  metropolis.  And  on  any  trip  there  was  sure 
to  be  a  deep-water  captain  starting  out  to  "join  his 
ship"  at  Boston  or  New  York  for  the  longer  voyage 
overseas;  beside  him,  perhaps,  his  wife  companioning 
him  as  far  as  she  might,  and  when  he  had  sailed  re- 
turning to  the  children  and  the  three  years  on  the 
farm  without  him.  Then,  when  his  ship  had  been 
spoken  by  a  faster  sailer,  and  was  due  to  "arrive," 
she  would  go  up  to  the  city  and  wait  sometimes 
through  anxious  weeks  until  it  was  sighted  down  the 
harbor.  Nor  were  they  likely  to  be  idle  weeks.  "I  am 
so  busy  I  do  not  know  how  to  stop  to  write  except  it 
is  absolutely  necessary,"  she  might  write  to  the  little 
flock  at  home.  "It  is  a  great  misfortune  to  have  such 
a  busy  mother,  but  you  must  make  the  best  of  it.  I 
am  improving  every  moment  in  sewing,  looking  for- 
ward to  September  when  father  's  home  for  my  lei- 
sure." And,  joy  to  read,  she  has  decided  to  let  them 
come  to  town.  "You  must  come  by  packet,  and  you 
better  not  make  any  visits  except  to  grandmother 
as  you  will  need  all  your  time  to  prepare.  Susan  must 
have  all  her  petticoats  fresh  starched;  Joseph  must  get 


THE  COUNTY  275 

his  whitewashing  done  and  his  garden  in  perfect  order. 
We  shall  want  lots  of  potatoes  if  father  is  at  home 
next  winter.  How  does  my  flower  garden  flourish?  Fix 
up  the  pigstye  as  I  want  it  ready  when  I  get  home. 
Fasten  the  gates  strong  so  the  cattle  cannot  get  in, 
and  see  to  the  water  fence.  Susan  need  not  fetch  a 
bonnet-box  unless  it  rains  when  she  goes  to  the  packet. 
Hang  your  bonnet  up  on  board  and  wear  your  sun- 
bonnet.  Put  the  things  which  you  will  need  to  put  on 
when  you  get  here  in  the  leather  bag.  Remember  if  it 
is  evening,  stay  on  board  all  night  unless  there  is 
some  one  on  board  you  know  to  go  with  you.  You  may 
think  you  know  the  way,  but  there  have  been  a  great 
many  changes  since  you  were  here,  and  the  city  looks 
very  different  in  the  evening  to  what  it  does  in  the 
daytime."  There  are  portraits  of  Susan  and  Joseph 
taken  on  this  momentous  visit:  elusive  daguerrotypes 
set  in  elaborately  worked  gilt  frames.  Joseph,  in 
roundabout  and  Eton  collar,  and  with  the  determined 
mien  befitting  a  future  master  of  ships,  is  seated  by 
a  table  ornately  covered.  The  other  half  of  the  old 
stamped-leather  case,  that  may  be  securely  clasped 
by  a  brass  hook,  is  occupied  by  Susan:  Susan  shy,  yet 
determined,  too,  clutching  at  the  same  table,  her 
wool  dress  cut  for  the  display  of  childish  collar- 
bones, her  thin  little  arms  twitched  slightly  akimbo 
by  their  short  tight  sleeves;  but  her  necklace  is 
picked  out  with  gold,  her  cheeks  with  pink,  and 
Susan's  wide-set  eyes  under  the  primly  parted  hair 
look  at  you  straight,  undaunted  by  the  great  world. 
The  captains  of  these  packets  that  ran  out  of  every 


276  OLD  CAPE  COD 

town  on  the  north  shore  of  the  Cape  had  their  fun 
racing  one  another  from  port  to  port;  it  is  probable 
some  money  was  lost  or  won  on  the  results.  Barnsta- 
ble,  even,  produced  a  ballad  to  immortalize  some  of 
the  contestants: 

"The  Commodore  Hull  she  sails  so  dull 
She  makes  her  crew  look  sour; 
The  Eagle  Flight  she  is  out  of  sight 
In  less  than  half  an  hour, 
But  the  bold  old  Emerald  takes  delight 
To  beat  the  Commodore  and  the  Flight." 

Other  packets  had  the  romantic  names  of  Winged 
Hunter  and  Leading  Wind;  the  Sarah  of  Brewster 
was  as  familiar  to  her  people  as  "old  Mis'  Paine"  or 
"  Squire  Freeman."  Truro  had  the  Young  Tell,  the 
Post  Boy  and  the  Modena.  The  Post  Boy  may  be  said 
to  have  been  queen  of  the  bay,  luxuriously  fitted  out 
in  mahogany  and  silk  draperies,  and  with  a  captain 
who  had  the  reputation  of  knowing  the  way  to  Boston 
in  the  darkest  night,  and  being  able  to  keep  his  pas- 
sengers good-natured  in  a  head  wind.  Passengers  by 
the  Post  Boy  knew  the  quality  of  their  company,  and 
that  the  run  to  Boston  could  never  be  so  long  as  to 
exhaust  the  fund  of  stories.  "Each  told  his  experience, 
or  listened  with  interest  or  pleasure  to  the  rest,  and 
all  sought  with  unaffected  goodnature  to  please  and 
profit." 

Ill 

No  picture  of  the  Cape  could  be  complete  without 
some  accent  upon  its  men  of  the  learned  professions. 


THE  COUNTY  277 

Teacher,  doctor,  parson,  and  lawyer  might  or  might 
not  have  shared  the  universal  experience  of  the  sea: 
it  depended,  usually,  upon  whether  they  were  im- 
portations or  native  products.  But  certainly  the  mem- 
ory of  them  adds  another  note  to  the  richness  of  the 
general  hue.  We  have  met  good  Deacon  Hawes,  the 
Yarmouth  schoolmaster,  and  the  more  elegant  Sid- 
ney Brooks,  of  Harwich :  they  exemplify,  perhaps,  the 
two  types  of  early  teachers.  Young  collegians,  work- 
ing their  way  through  the  university,  were  for  a  later 
generation;  and  very  well,  for  the  most  part,  did  they 
train  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  district  schools.  They 
were  absurdly  young,  some  of  them  lads  not  yet  in 
their  twenties;  but  they  imparted  knowledge  with 
the  same  clear-minded  determination  with  which  they 
were  pursuing  their  own  education.  Schools  of  the 
best  quality  that  offered,  the  people  of  any  time  were 
bound  to  have:  Truro,  as  early  as  1716,  placed  school- 
master before  politician.  They  engaged  Mr.  Samuel 
Spear  "for  the  entire  year"  for  the  consideration  that 
he  should  receive  forty  pounds  salary  and  "board 
himself";  then,  "determined  to  save  in  some  way 
what  they  were  compelled  to  spend  for  schools," 
they  voted  to  send  no  representative  to  the  General 
Court,  "because  we  are  not  obliged  by  law  to  send 
one,  and  because  the  Court  has  rated  us  so  high  that 
we  are  not  able  to  pay  one  for  going."  Later  Mr. 
Spear  served  Provincetown  as  minister. 

Of  the  early  physicians  Doctor  Abner  Hersey,  of 
Barnstable,  was,  perhaps,  the  most  famous.  He  came 
there  from  Hinghani  in  17C9  to  study  medicine  with 


278  OLD  CAPE  COD 

a  brother,  who,  however,  died  within  the  year  of  his 
arrival.  Very  likely  the  general  knowledge  he  had 
picked  up  in  that  short  association,  supplemented  by 
his  native  judgment  and  common  sense,  his  keen  ob- 
servation and  power  of  correct  deduction,  served  his 
patients  as  well  as  would  a  more  exact  training  in 
the  science  of  the  day.  He  became  the  leading  physi- 
cian of  the  Cape,  and  on  his  regular  circuit  through 
the  towns,  the  sick  were  brought  for  his  healing  to 
every  crossroads  and  centre.  He  was  brusque  and  un- 
certain in  temper,  and  was,  withal,  eccentric.  Free- 
man judges  him  "subject  to  hypochondriac  affec- 
tions." "He  rejected  alike  animal  food  and  alcoholic 
stimulants;  his  meals  were  fruit,  milk,  and  vegetables. 
Contemning  the  follies  of  fashion,  his  garments  were 
peculiar  to  himself  —  his  overcoat  to  protect  him  in 
travel  was  made  of  seven  calfskins,  lined  with  flannel." 
As  a  further  precaution  against  the  searching  winter 
winds  his  chaise  was  entirely  enclosed  with  leather 
curtains,  pierced  by  two  loopholes  for  his  eyes  and  the 
reins.  There  is  evidence  that  his  bed  was  heaped  high 
with  "milled"  blankets  which  he  manipulated,  up 
or  down,  in  accord  with  the  temperature.  He  was 
just,  benevolent,  shrewd,  and  his  name  lived  after  him. 
By  his  will  he  left  five  hundred  pounds  to  Harvard 
University  to  endow  a  chair  of  anatomy  and  surgery ; 
and  after  his  wife's  death  the  residue  of  his  estate  was 
to  be  held  for  the  thirteen  Congregational  parishes  of 
the  county,  the  income  distributed  in  due  proportion 
to  the  size  of  his  practice  therein.  And  there  opened 
the  door  of  temptation  to  the  devout:  for  this  sum, 


THE  COUNTY  279 

amounting  to  some  four  thousand  pounds,  was  to  be 
managed  by  the  deacons  and  the  income  expended 
for  such  sound  doctrinal  books  as  Dodridge  on  the 
'*  Rise  and  Progress  of  the  Christian  Religion,"  and 
Evans  on  "The  Christian  Temper."  But  the  deacons 
made  such  good  cheer  at  their  annual  meetings,  which 
held  over  sometimes  for  two  or  three  days  at  the  com- 
fortable tavern  of  Mrs.  Lydia  Sturgis  in  Barnstable, 
that  little  of  the  income  was  left  for  the  purchase  of 
godly  literature.  The  matter  became  something  of  a 
scandal,  and  after  the  lapse  of  thirty  years  the  court 
settled  the  estate  and  distributed  the  principal  among 
the  several  parishes. 

Doctor  James  Thacher,  who  studied  with  Hersey 
and  served  as  a  surgeon  in  the  Revolution,  died,  in 
1844,  at  the  age  of  ninety.  Doctor  Leonard,  of  Sand- 
wich, born  in  1763  and  practising  for  sixty  years,  had 
the  enviable  reputation  of  being  patient  with  chronic 
invalids,  prompt  in  epidemics  or  "occasional"  dis- 
eases —  in  short,  a  good  Christian  and  a  good  doctor. 
He  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  who  links  up  the  pro- 
fession, in  the  memory  of  the  living  with  Doctor 
Gould,  of  Brewster.  Vast,  kindly,  skilful,  sympathetic 
with  his  patients  to  his  own  hurt,  rather  silent,  who 
can  forget  him  on  his  errands  of  mercy  as  he  drove 
from  house  to  house  or  town  to  town  in  the  "sulky" 
that  was  so  exact  a  fit  for  his  bulk  the  wonder  was  he 
must  not  always  carry  it  upon  his  back  as  the  snail 
his  shell.  It  was  an  ordeal  then  for  a  child  to  be  stood 
on  a  chair  and  have  that  Jovine  ear  applied  to  back 
and  chest  in  lieu  of  a  stethoscope.  "Have  you  a 


280  OLD  CAPE  COD 

phial?"  inquired  Jove  of  the  parent  after  one  such 
test.  Later  a  terrified  infant  was  abstracted  from  the 
depths  of  a  broom-cupboard.  "O  mother,  mother, 
what  is  a  phial?"  cried  the  victim  of  his  fears. 

The  early  parsons  were  often,  as  we  have  seen,  of  a 
fine  type  —  English  university  men  usually,  who  had 
travelled  far  in  their  quest  of  freedom.  They  were 
perforce,  in  the  new  country,  farmers  as  well  as  clergy- 
men, and  one  of  them,  the  Reverend  John  Avery, 
of  Truro,  practised,  in  addition,  the  arts  of  doctor, 
lawyer,  and  smith.  It  is  written  of  him  that  he  "man- 
ifested great  tenderness  for  the  sick,  and  his  people 
very  seriously  felt  their  loss  in  his  death."  He  came 
to  them  in  1711,  and  lived  active,  beneficent  years 
among  them  until  his  death  in  1754.  These  Cape 
pastorates  frequently  covered  a  great  span  of  years. 
In  its  first  century  the  West  Parish  of  Barnstable  had 
but  two  ministers.  In  1828  died  the  Reverend  Timo- 
thy Alden,  of  Yarmouth,  after  a  tenure  of  fifty-nine 
years.  Alden  was  more  truly  of  the  soil  than  many  of 
his  brethren,  as  he  was  in  direct  line  from  John  of  the 
Mayflower.  He  was  a  man  of  wit  in  the  choice  of  his 
texts:  "Where  no  wood  is,  there  the  fire  goeth  out," 
brought  forth  on  the  Monday  his  stipulated  firewood 
that  had  been  lacking;  and  to  a  critic  he  gave  answer 
on  the  following  Sabbath:  "The  word  preached  did 
not  profit  them,  not  being  mixed  with  faith  in  them 
that  heard  it."  Mr.  Freeman  remembers  that  Alden 
was  the  last  to  wear  the  Revolutionary  costume.  As 
late  as  1824  he  saw  him  at  an  ordination:  "his  an- 
tique wig  conspicuous,  in  small  clothes,  with  knee  and 


THE  COUNTY  281 

shoe  buckles,  and  three-cornered  hat  lying  nearby  — 
objects  of  interest  to  the  young."  "He  sat  there  as 
sometimes  stands  a  solitary,  aged  oak,  surrounded 
by  the  younger  growth  of  a  later  period.  It  was  to  us 
the  last  exhibition  of  the  great  wigs  and  cocked  hats; 
it  left  also  impressions  of  a  bygone  age  long  to  be  re- 
membered." 

The  pastorates  of  Mr.  Avery,  Mr.  Upham,  and  Mr. 
Damon,  of  Truro,  covered  one  hundred  and  eighteen 
years.  It  was  Mr.  Upham  who  rebated  fifty  pounds  of 
his  salary  during  the  hard  times  of  the  Revolution, 
and  gave  further  evidence  of  public  spirit  by  travel- 
ling to  Boston  to  aid  in  adjusting  "the  prices  of  the 
necessities  of  life."  His  people  were  ready  to  raise  one 
hundred  dollars  for  his  expenses.  Mr.  Upham  "left 
behind  him  a  poem  in  manuscript,  the  subject  of 
which  was  taken  from  the  Book  of  Job.  He  was  ever 
attentive  to  the  real  good  of  his  people,  and  exerted 
himself  with  zeal  and  fidelity  in  their  service."  The 
Reverend  Jude  Damon  was  ordained  in  1786,  and 
some  notion  of  the  festivity  may  be  gathered  from 
the  fact  that  Captain  Joshua  Atkins  was  voted  forty 
dollars  (Spanish  Milled)  to  defray  the  expense  of  en- 
tertaining the  council.  Mr.  Damon  was  voted  two  hun- 
dred pounds  "settlement,"  and,  annually,  seventy- 
five  pounds  specie,  the  use  of  the  parsonage,  fifteen 
cords  of  oak  wood,  three  of  pine,  and  five  tons  of  hay 
delivered  at  his  door.  And  Mr.  Damon's  comments 
upon  certain  of  liis  parishioners,  deceased,  are  pre- 
served for  our  pleasure  in  his  private  memoranda.  One 
Mary  Treat,  dead  at  ninety-five,  "came  from  Eng- 


282  OLD  CAPE  COD 

land  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  and  was  a  person  of  fine 
mind  and  robust  constitution.  She  gave  me  a  tolera- 
ble account  of  London  and  Westminster  bridges,  and 
likewise  observed  that  the  distance  from  Dover  to 
Calais  was  so  small  that  in  a  very  clear  day  linen 
might  be  seen  from  one  place  to  another."  Samuel 
Small  was  "a  pious  and  good  man  whose  great  desire 
was  to  be  prepared  for  another  and  better  world  and 
to  have  an  easy  passage  out  of  this."  Of  the  Widow 
Atkins  her  "usefulness  and  activity  in  sickness  and 
midwifery  will  be  remembered,  and  her  memory  will 
be  embalmed  with  a  grateful  perfume  in  the  minds  of 
all  who  were  within  the  circle  of  her  acquaintance." 
Another  "had  a  taste  for  reading  both  sacred  and 
profane  history."  Another,  of  enterprising  spirit,  was 
"greatly  prospered  in  his  secular  affairs,  tender- 
hearted to  the  poor."  Vivid  little  portraits  flash  out 
from  his  page:  the  husband,  "tender  and  affectionate, 
as  a  father  distinguished  for  his  talent  of  governing 
his  children,  tempering  indulgence  with  prudence; 
as  a  neighbor  pleasant  and  obliging,  as  a  magistrate 
he  was  a  peace-maker,  as  a  deacon  of  the  church  he 
magnified  his  office.  He  came  to  his  grave  in  full  age, 
like  a  shock  of  corn  cometh  he  in  season."  Mr.  Da- 
mon himself  was  beloved  for  his  tolerance  and  sweet 
spirit:  of  a  welcome  guest  one  could  say  no  more  than 
"I  would  as  soon  see  Mr.  Damon."  But  his  memo- 
randa reveal  that  Mr.  Damon  had  a  keen  eye.  Of  one 
female  parishioner  who  in  her  last  illness  "frequently 
expressed  her  desire  to  be  with  her  Redeemer,"  he 
remarks,  "It  is  to  be  hoped  she  was  as  really  pious  as 


THE  COUNTY  283 

she  seemed."  And  of  one  deceased  "professor"  he 
wrote  that  he  "was  possessed  of  good  abilities  and 
powers  of  mind.  These  were,  however,  much  eclipsed 
by  his  selfish  spirit  and  avaricious  disposition."  To 
Mr.  Damon's  cure  belonged  a  local  astronomer,  un- 
lettered and  untaught,  a  dreamer,  who  loved  the 
stars.  He  knew  them  all  and  called  them  by  name, 
and,  meeting  with  scant  sympathy  in  his  star-gaz- 
ing, scorned  not  the  humblest  disciple.  "I  swear,"  he 
had  been  known  to  exclaim,  "half  the  stars  might  go 
out  of  the  sky,  and  nobody  here  would  know  it,  if 
it  was  n't  for  me  and  Aunt  Achsah." 

The  pastorates  of  Mr.  Dunster,  Mr.  Stone,  and  Mr. 
Simpkins  in  the  North  Parish  of  Harwich  included 
its  transfer  to  Brewster,  and  covered  a  span  of  one 
hundred  and  thirty-one  years.  Mr.  Dunster  married 
Reliance,  daughter  of  Governor  Hinckley,  who  is  said 
to  have  been  baptized  on  the  day  of  the  memorable 
"swamp  fight"  that  ended  King  Philip's  War,  and 
received  her  name  in  "token  of  firm  reliance  in  Di- 
vine Power"  held  by  her  mother  for  the  safety  of  the 
father  who  was  fighting  that  day.  Mr.  Stone,  in  1730, 
inveighs  against  "a  sad  failing  in  family  government 
—  a  wicked  practice  of  young  people  in  their  court- 
ships which  I  have  borne  my  public  testimony 
against"  —  an  allusion,  no  doubt,  to  the  ancient  be- 
trothal custom  of  "sitting-up."  There  are  interesting 
cases  of  parish  discipline  recorded.  In  Mr.  Dunster's 
time,  "the  church  met  to  hear  a  charge  examined 
against  a  sister,  brought  by  another  sister  in  the 
church,  the  pushing  her  out  of  a  pew,  and  hunching 


284  OLD  CAPE  COD 

another  in  time  of  divine  service  in  the  meeting- 
house." And  as  late  as  1820  a  committee  was  ap- 
pointed "to  keep  the  meeting-house  clear  of  dogs, 
and  to  kill  them  if  their  owners  will  not  keep  them 
out";  boys,  likewise,  the  committee  were  to  "take 
care  of  and  keep  them  still  in  time  of  meeting."  No 
light  task,  we  may  guess,  where  the  boys  were  segre- 
gated in  a  balcony  apart  as  if  for  the  special  incite- 
ment of  mischief;  nor  were  boys  the  only  ones  who 
were  irked  by  those  long  services.  It  was  the  sexton's 
duty  to  turn  the  glass  at  the  beginning  of  the  sermon, 
which  must  be  ended  with  the  sand,  and  Freeman 
remembers  the  "early  preparation  for  a  determined 
stampede  from  the  meeting-house  the  moment  that 
the  benediction  was  pronounced.  Coats  were  buttoned, 
canes  and  hats  were  taken  in  hand,  pew-doors  were 
unbuttoned,  and  diligent  and  full  preparation  was 
made  for  a  general  rush  to  ensue  as  soon  as  the  closing 
Amen  should  begin  to  be  articulated  by  the  minister. 
And  such  a  babel  of  tongues  and  noisy  scattering 
of  devout  worshippers  as  followed  was  memorable." 
Nor  is  it  remarkable  that  men  should  have  welcomed 
the  Amen  as  a  blessed  release  when  pews  must  have 
been  stools  of  penance  for  a  full-bodied  sailor,  or  for 
a  child  whose  short  legs  must  dangle  unsupported,  so 
narrow  was  the  seat,  so  hard  and  straight  did  the 
back  rise  therefrom.  Mr.  Freeman  recalls  other  points 
of  the  service,  that  of  the  choir  "tuning  their  voices 
-  often  with  the  aid  of  the  bass  viol  and  sometimes 
violin,  during  the  reading  of  the  psalm,"  and  the 
slamming  of  the  hinged  seats  of  the  pews  when  the 


THE  COUNTY  285 

congregation  rose  for  the  prayer.  It  would  have  been 
papistical  then  to  kneel  in  the  house  of  God,  and  a 
man  addressed  his  Maker  stoutly  upon  his  feet;  the 
monotony  of  the  service  was  further  varied,  when 
the  last  hymn  was  given  out,  by  standing  with  backs 
to  the  parson  as  if,  his  contribution  duly  delivered, 
full  criticism  might  be  turned  upon  the  choir. 

Mr.  Simpkins  steered  Brewster  through  the 
troubled  times  of  the  Embargo  War,  and  aided  with 
his  intercession  the  deliberations  of  the  town  as 
to  paying  war  tribute  to  the  British.  Grandmothers 
of  not  many  years  ago  could  tell  stories  of  Parson 
Simpkins,  a  stately  gentleman  for  whom  the  best 
New  England  rum  was  kept  on  the  sideboard  to  cheer 
his  parochial  calls.  But  the  parson,  on  such  visits,  was 
not  infrequently  the  herald  of  disaster:  for  when  a 
ship  arrived  with  captain  or  seaman  missing,  drowned 
or  dead  in  some  foreign  port,  the  minister  was  first 
notified,  and  even  if  his  call  were  only  for  pleasure, 
the  wife  or  mother  who  saw  him  coming  would  have  a 
pang  of  dread,  and  the  neighbors  say:  "There  goes 
Mr.  Simpkins  —  bad  news  for  some  one." 

One  of  the  last  of  these  long  cures,  running  through 
thirty-five  years,  was  that  of  the  Reverend  Thomas 
Dawes,  worthy  successor  of  his  prototypes,  a  fine, 
scholarly  gentleman  of  the  old  school.  The  rounded 
periods  of  his  sermons  were  sometimes  applied  to  the 
case  of  his  parishioners  with  a  directness  that  offended 
sensitive  ears,  but  is  valued  rightly  in  the  stock-in- 
trade  of  many  an  urban  preacher  of  to-day.  "We  of 
Brewster"  he  would  roll  out  with  melodious  empha- 


286  OLD  CAPE  COD 

sis.  His  reading  of  hymn  and  Scriptures  was  a  remem- 
brance to  be  treasured,  his  presence  in  the  pulpit  a 
benediction,  and  who  that  had  seen  him  there  could 
forget  the  shining  glory  of  his  face  as  he  "talked  with 
God."  For  the  children  of  his  parish,  through  a  long 
season,  he  made  Saul  of  Tarsus  a  living  personality, 
and  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean  as  familiar  to 
them  as  Cape  Cod  Bay.  He  illustrated  his  instruc- 
tion by  crayon  sketches  in  color,  and  the  scholars 
saw  how  Gamaliel's  pupils  were  grouped  about  their 
master's  feet;  they  knew  how  a  man  should  adjust  his 
phylactery;  and  though  there  were  derision  of  the 
High  Priest's  countenance,  there  was  no  confusing 
the  style  of  his  breast-plate  with  that  of  a  centurion. 
As  he  aged,  the  good  pastor  became  something  of  a 
recluse.  He  loved  his  books,  and  through  the  years 
amassed  in  his  little  study  a  collection  that  was  typi- 
cal of  the  best  in  his  day  and  generation,  with  a  queer 
alien  blot  now  and  then:  for  it  was  said  that  he  could 
never  resist  the  blandishments  of  the  canvasser  and 
the  appeal  of  the  book  in  his  hand.  Dying,  he  left  his 
treasure  intact  to  the  village  library;  nor  did  he  see 
the  necessity  for  any  such  stipulation  as  old  John 
Lothrop's  that  his  books  were  only  for  those  who 
knew  how  to  use  them. 

The  temporal  affairs  of  these  good  men  not  infre- 
quently needed  mending,  nor,  as  time  went  on,  were 
the  clergy  usually  recruited  from  among  the  natives: 
Cape  Cod  men,  pursuing  their  vocations  by  land  and 
sea,  were  likely  to  depute  to  aliens  the  less  lucrative 
cure  of  souls.  Versatile  Mr.  A  very,  of  Truro,  seems  to 


THE  COUNTY  287 

have  come  out  well  in  the  struggle  and  to  have  be- 
queathed a  tidy  fortune  to  his  heirs.  But  Jonathan 
Russell  and  Timothy  Alden,  as  we  have  seen,  needed 
to  have  a  care  to  their  firewood;  and  Oakes  Shaw,  the 
successor  of  Russell  and  father  of  the  great  chief  jus- 
tice, even  had  recourse  to  the  constable  to  adjust  the 
arrears  of  his  stipend.  Mrs.  Shaw,  debating  with  her 
son  his  choice  of  a  profession,  was  betrayed  into  some 
ironical  appreciation  of  the  clergy  which  she  was 
quick  to  regret.  "I  hope  you  will  not  mistake  your 
talent,"  wrote  she.  "I  could  name  several  that  took 
upon  them  the  sacred  profession  of  divinity,  this  pro- 
fession so  far  from  regulating  their  conduct,  that  their 
conduct  would  have  disgraced  a  Hottentot.  Others 
we  have  seen  in  various  professions  who  have  been  an 
ornament  to  the  Christian  religion.  I  was  not  aware 
till  I  had  just  finished  the  last  sentence  that  you 
might  construe  it  into  a  discouragement  of  entering 
upon  the  study  of  divinity.  This  is  not  my  intention, 
for  I  do  most  sincerely  hope  that  you  will  make  it 
your  study  through  life  whether  you  ever  preach  it  or 
not." 

Her  son  chose  the  law,  and  gave  us  one  of  the  two 
great  men,  both  of  them  lawyers,  whom  the  Cape 
has  produced.  Palfrey  quotes  one  who  went  so  far 
as  to  affirm  that  "no  spot  has  made  such  a  gift  to 
the  country  as  Great  Marshes  in  Barnstable."  There 
lived  James  Otis,  chief  justice  of  the  Court  of  Common 
Pleas  in  the  troubled  times  of  the  Revolution,  and 
there  James  Otis  the  patriot  was  born.  James  Otis,  the 
younger,  when  he  grew  to  maturity,  removed  to  Bos- 


288  OLD  CAPE  COD 

ton,  but  he  may  be  counted  a  son  of  the  Old  Colony 
and  an  inheritor  of  its  genius.  He  was  far  more  than 
a  fiery  orator  whose  eloquence  was  the  inspiration 
of  other  men's  work;  but  on  a  flood  of  enthusiasm 
induced  by  that  eloquence  he  was  carried  into  the 
House  of  Representatives.  "Out  of  this  election  will 
arise  a  damned  faction,"  commented  a  royalist  judge, 
"which  will  shake  this  province  to  its  foundation." 
His  prediction  fell  ludicrously  short  of  the  event. 
Otis  conducted  the  patriots'  cause  with  such  "pru- 
dence and  fortitude,  at  every  sacrifice  of  personal  in- 
terest and  amidst  unceasing  persecution,"  that  the 
"History  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Massachusetts" 
can  declare  that:  "Constitutional  government  in 
America,  so  far  as  it  is  expressed  in  writing,  developed 
largely  from  the  ideas  expressed  by  James  Otis  and 
the  Massachusetts  men  who  framed  the  Constitution 
of  1780." 

And  the  man  who  more  than  any  other  in  Massa- 
chusetts was  to  perfect  their  work,  who  stands  beside 
the  great  Marshall  in  the  history  of  American  ju- 
risprudence, and  by  the  wise  decisions  of  a  temper- 
ate mind  established  the  flow  of  justice  through  the 
channel  of  the  common  law,  was  also  a  native  of  Great 
Marshes.  There,  in  1781,  when  the  work  of  the  earlier 
patriots  was  accomplished,  Lemuel  Shaw  was  born. 
Slowly,  irresistibly,  by  sheer  force  of  worth  and  capac- 
ity, he  advanced  to  fame.  He  was  -graduated  from 
Harvard,  he  entered  the  law,  and  for  twenty-six  years 
practised  his  profession  in  Boston.  At  one  time  and 
another  he  served  in  the  General  Court,  he  was  fire- 


THE  COUNTY  289 

warden,  selectman,  a  member  of  the  school  commit- 
tee, and  of  the  constitutional  convention  of  1820;  and 
in  1830,  when  he  was  appointed  chief  justice  of  the 
Supreme  Judicial  Court,  his  sane  inheritance,  his 
tempered  judgment,  his  wide  experience  of  law  and  of 
men,  had  forged  a  mind  perfectly  adapted  to  his  op- 
portunity. In  his  thirty  years  upon  the  bench  he  en- 
riched incalculably  the  sparse  records  of  the  common 
law.  In  the  opinion  of  a  fellow  jurist,  "The  distinguish- 
ing characteristic  of  his  judicial  work  was  the  applica- 
tion of  the  general  principles  of  law,  by  a  virile  and 
learned  mind,  with  a  statesman's  breadth  of  vision 
and  amplitude  of  wisdom  to  the  novel  conditions 
presented  by  a  rapidly  changing  civilization."  The 
Pilgrims  had  brought  here  and  practised  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  conception  of  such  freedom  as  is  commensurate 
with  justice  to  all.  "They  brought  along  with  them 
their  national  genius,"  wrote  Saint  John  de  Creve- 
cceur  in  his  "Letters  from  an  American  Farmer,"  in 
1782,  "to  which  they  principally  owe  what  liberty 
they  enjoy,  and  what  substance  they  possess."  It 
was  the  great  American  jurists  who  developed  and 
adapted  that  conception  of  justice  for  the  due  guid- 
ance of  the  new  nation. 

Shaw  lived  in  Boston,  but,  unlike  James  Otis,  he 
never  gave  up  his  hold  upon  his  native  town.  He 
loved  the  village  roads  and  Great  Marshes  and  the 
sea.  And,  curiously,  as  if  again  the  magic  of  the  sea's 
charm  persisted  in  the  fortunes  of  its  children,  Shaw's 
daughter  married  Herman  Melville,  the  author  of 
"Typee"  and  "Ornoo."  Shaw  was  fond  of  children, 


290  OLD  CAPE  COD 

and  used  to  drive  his  little  granddaughter  about 
Boston  in  his  old  chaise;  there  is  a  story  of  his  being 
caught  by  a  visitor  at  a  game  of  bear  with  the  chil- 
dren. But  he  could  be  stern  enough  on  the  bench;  and 
a  sharp  practitioner,  complaining  of  his  severity,  was 
tartly  reminded  by  a  fellow  lawyer  that  "while  we 
have  jackals  and  hyenas  at  the  bar,  we  want  the  old 
lion  on  the  bench  with  one  blow  of  his  huge  paw  to 
bring  their  scalps  about  their  eyes." 

Shaw  spoke  again  and  again  at  local  celebrations 
on  the  Cape.  At  one  such  banquet  he  might  have  pro- 
posed, or  answered,  the  toast  to  "Cape  Cod  Our 
Home:  The  first  to  honor  the  Pilgrim  ship,  the  first 
to  receive  the  Pilgrim  feet;  the  first  and  always  the 
dearest  in  the  memory  of  her  children  everywhere." 
But  it  was  at  Yarmouth  that  he  expressed  best,  per- 
haps, the  loyalties  of  his  great  heart:  "There  is  not 
one  visitor  here  male  or  female  whose  heart  is  not 
penetrated  with  the  deep  and  endearing  sentiment,  at 
once  joyous  and  sad,  which  makes  up  the  indescrib- 
able charm  of  home." 


CHAPTER  XI 

GENIUS  LOCI 

I 

OTIS  and  Shaw  were  great,  and  the  qualities  that 
made  them  so,  particularly  those  of  Shaw,  were  in- 
digenous to  the  soil.  It  is  interesting  to  look  through 
a  book  like  Freeman's  "Cape  Cod,"  and  study  there 
the  portraits  of  the  men  who  built  this  unique  com- 
munity. They  are  often  singularly  handsome,  with  a 
fine,  well-bred,  upstanding  air.  They,  preeminently, 
are  not  villagers,  but  men  of  the  world  who  know 
their  world  well  and  have  considered  its  works.  Per- 
haps in  every  face,  whether  it  has  beauty  of  line  or  the 
homely  ruggedness  graved  by  generations  of  positive 
character,  the  dominant  feature  is  a  certain  poise  of 
mind:  these  men  would  think,  and  then  judge;  they 
would  look  at  you  straight,  and  it  would  be  difficult 
for  you  to  conceal  your  purpose.  It  would  be  easier  to 
be  persuaded  than  to  persuade  them;  and  in  the  end 
it  is  probable  that  your  yielding  would  be  justified 
in  wisdom.  From  such  characters  could  be  drawn  a 
composite  that  might  fitly  be  the  genius  loci;  and  lest 
its  secret  charm  elude  us  and  Cape  Cod  appear  no 
more  than  a  pleasing  sandy  offshoot  of  New  England, 
we  should  do  well  to  learn  of  him.  He  is,  as  we  see 
him,  in  essence  a  follower  of  the  sea:  one  who  pursues 
romance  to  mould  it  to  everyday  use.  For  a  closer 
aspect  it  may  be  convenient  to  place  him  in  the 


292  OLD  CAPE  COD 

eighteen-forties,  or  earlier,  at  latest  the  fifties,  in  the 
great  days  of  the  clippers. 

On  the  old  sailing-vessel  there  was  a  constant  duel, 
to  challenge  the  temper  of  him,  between  a  man's  wit 
and  the  lambent  will  of  the  sea.  And  although  the 
steamship  has  a  romance  and  daring  of  its  own  —  a 
puny  hull  that  carries  forth  upon  the  waters  a  little 
flare  of  flame  to  wage  the  old  warfare  —  it  was  with 
sails  aloft  and  no  wires  from  shore  that  a  lad  then, 
who  had  the  gift  of  using  the  decisive  moment,  would 
best  find  a  career.  The  master  of  a  ship  was  master  in 
the  markets  ashore,  and  there,  or  afloat,  he  must  be 
quick  to  seize  fortune  as  it  came.  It  is  said  of  such 
a  one  that  "he  had  the  air,  as  he  had  the  habit,  of 
success."  He  was  no  reckless  adventurer,  but  aimed 
to  earn  an  honest  living  as  soberly  as  any  stay-at- 
home,  for  whom,  and  also,  perhaps,  for  fishermen  on 
the  Banks,  he  may  have  had  some  easy  condescen- 
sion. He  was  the  aristocrat  of  the  sea.  When  adven- 
ture met  him  by  the  way,  so  much  the  better  if  young 
blood  ran  hot;  but  the  majority  were  shrewd  cool 
merchants  who  sold  and  bought  where  their  judg- 
ment pointed  them.  They  were  expert  in  seamanship 
because  that  was  one  of  the  tools  of  their  trade;  and 
when  they  turned  a  tidy  profit  on  some  voyage,  they 
bought  shares  in  the  ships  they  sailed,  or  others,  in- 
vesting in  a  business  whose  every  turn  was  familiar  to 
them,  until  they  could  leave  the  sea  to  become  farm- 
ers, or  ship-chandlers,  or  East  India  merchants.  If 
the  seaman  founded  a  house  in  the  city,  he  sent  his 
boys  to  college,  and  took  one  or  two  of  them  into  his 


GENIUS  LOCI  293 

office  to  train  them  as  merchants;  and  in  not  many 
decades  the  same  absorbing  hazard  of  trade  was  to 
be  carried  on  by  other  means,  or,  if  by  ocean  traffic, 
"steam-kettle  sailors"  were  servants  of  the  counting- 
rooms  ashore. 

But  our  genius  loci,  who  was  familiar  with  the  cities 
of  the  world,  chose  for  his  home  the  town  where  he 
was  born.  When  fortune  warranted,  he  married  a 
wife,  and  built  in  the  village  a  house  that  was  adorned, 
voyage  after  voyage,  with  a  gradual  store  of  treas- 
ures from  Europe  and  the  East.  His  women-folk  wore 
the  delicate  tissues  of  foreign  looms,  and  managed 
the  farm  when  he  was  away,  and  practised  intellectu- 
alities; they  cooked,  sewed,  painted,  accomplished  a 
dozen  small  arts  with  exquisite  care.  They  were  ready 
for  the  relaxations  of  society  when  ships  made  port, 
and  the  village  swung  to  the  tune  of  a  larger  world. 
The  seafarer  loved  them  with  a  reticence  called  for  by 
the  custom  of  the  day,  and  with  a  tender  chivalry 
that  might  be  the  envy  of  any  time. 

There  is  a  pretty  story  of  one  old  captain  —  men 
commanded  their  ships  at  twenty  and  were  old  at 
forty  —  whose  treasure  was  a  little  daughter.  She  had 
a  maimed  foot  that  must  undergo  a  cruel  cure,  and 
for  a  bribe  she  had  been  promised  dancing-lessons, 
the  dearest  wish  of  her  childish  heart.  Her  ordeal 
passed,  the  captain  kept  faith  with  her.  Through  a 
long  winter,  while  he  waited  for  his  ship,  in  starlight 
or  snow  he  set  the  child  upon  his  shoulder  and  bore 
her  to  the  hall  where  the  old  fiddler  taught  the  boys 
and  girls  their  steps,  and  there  danced  with  her, 


294  OLD  CAPE  COD 

envied  because  of  such  attendance,  until  the  foot 
grew  strong  and  she,  who  had  been  shy  from  the  mis- 
fortune that  had  marked  her  difference  in  the  chil- 
dren's world,  blossomed  into  the  merriest  little  jade 
of  all  the  company. 

And  for  him,  all  the  watery  highways  he  must 
travel  were  only  the  road  to  lead  him  home.  There, 
his  adventure  achieved,  he  lived  healthily  upon  the 
produce  of  his  farm;  poverty,  the  city  kinsman  was 
ready  to  aver,  his  only  fault.  But  he  had  more  than 
enough  for  the  life  he  had  chosen;  his  manners  were 
as  polished  and  his  speech  as  fine  as  if  he  trod  the 
pavement  instead  of  driving  about  his  beloved  country 
roads  —  he  had  paced  too  many  miles  of  deck  to  walk 
a  rod  ashore.  He  had  rich  memories,  and  discrimina- 
tion in  choosing  the  elements  essential  to  happiness. 
What  should  a  man  need  more?  And  when  the  end 
came,  and  in  the  graveyard  with  an  outlook  to  blue 
water  from  the  hillside  where  the  willows  drooped 
low,  he  lay  beside  her  whom  he  loved  best,  the  epitaph 
there  might  be,  for  her:  "During  a  long  life  she  per- 
formed all  her  duties  with  fidelity  and  zeal,  and  died  in 
the  triumph  of  Christian  faith  and  resignation."  And 
for  him:  "His  integrity  of  character  gave  him  an  hon- 
orable distinction  among  his  fellow  citizens :  his  private 
virtues  endeared  him  to  all:  his  end  was  peace." 

II 

WE  do  well,  now  and  again,  to  make  friends  with 
another  time  than  our  own ;  and  by  good  fortune  some 
of  us,  then,  may  find  a  path  to  the  Cape  of  pines  and 


GENIUS  LOCI  295 

dunes  where  lay  a  township  recreated  for  us  in  twilight 
stories  by  the  nursery  fire.  Here  peaked-roof  houses 
look  out  over  "the  lilac  trees  which  bear  no  fruit  but 
a  pleasant  smell,"  willow  and  silvery  poplars  meet 
above  the  road,  and  here  genial  spirits  populate  the 
brave  old  time  —  days  when  deep-water  sailors 
hailed  the  little  town  as  home,  and  women,  demure, 
pure-faced,  neat-footed,  kept  the  houses  as  spotless 
as  their  hearts. 

From  month  on  to  month,  the  village  might  have 
been  a  colony  forsworn  by  world  and  men;  but  when 
the  Flying  Cloud  or  Halcyon  made  port,  it  brimmed 
with  life  eager  to  have  its  due  before  next  sailing-day. 
From  the  cap'n's  mansion  on  Main  Street  to  the  low- 
eaved  house  whose  oldest  son  swung  his  hammock  in 
the  fo'c's'le,  doors  opened  with  an  easy  welcome.  This 
home  had  sent  a  mate,  that  a  cabin  boy,  another 
would  never  see  again  the  brave  fellow  who  had  been 
lost  off  Mozambique.  They  had  been  as  sons  to  the 
"  old  man,"  who  on  the  planks  of  his  ship  was  patri- 
arch or  despot  as  character  should  determine;  but 
now  all  were  equal  by  the  freemasonry  of  home.  Sea- 
chests  gave  up  their  treasure,  and  bits  of  ebony  and 
jade  were  added  to  mantel  curios,  an  ivory  junk 
spread  its  crimson  sail  beside  the  Tower  of  Pisa,  a 
spirited  portrait  of  the  Leviathan  entering  the  port 
of  Malaga  was  hung  opposite  the  waxen  survival  of 
Aunt  Jane's  funeral  wreath.  And  in  shaded  parlors 
the  fragrance  of  sandalwood  and  attar-of-rose  and 
the  spicy  odor  of  lacquer  mingled  with  the  breath  of 
syringa  wafted  in  from  the  garden. 


296  OLD  CAPE  COD 

Then  there  was  an  interchange  of  high  festivities 
among  the  cap'n's  families  when  French  china,  lat- 
ticed with  gold,  set  off  Belfast  damask,  and  the  silver 
tea-service,  which  Cap'n  Jason  had  brought  from 
Russia  in  '36,  stood  cheek  by  jowl  with  East  Indian 
condiment  and  English  glass.  Amid  the  rustle  of 
lustrous  satin  and  silk  the  guests  gathered  about  the 
board,  and  cups  were  stood  in  cup-plates  while  tea 
was  sipped  from  saucers  poised  in  delicately  crooked 
fingers.  Conversation  swung  easily  around  the  world, 
from  adventures  in  the  Spanish  Main  to  a  dinner  at 
"Melbun"  on  the  English  barque  whose  captain 
they  had  greeted  in  every  harbor  of  the  globe  where 
trade  was  good;  and  they  recalled  with  Homeric  jest 
the  ball  at  Singapore  when  many  friendly  ships  rode 
at  anchor  in  the  bay. 

But  it  was  on  a  Sunday  that  the  town  blossomed  as 
sweetly  as  any  rose  in  June,  when  wives  and  sweet- 
hearts, in  silks  and  fairy  penas  and  wraps  heavy  with 
patient  embroideries  of  the  East,  made  their  way  to 
the  village  church  where  a  second  mate  led  the  hymns 
with  his  flute  and  the  cap'n  droned  after  on  a  viol. 
"There  is  a  land  mine  eye  hath  seen"  swelled  into  a 
joyous  chorus  of  treble  and  rumbling  bass,  while  men 
thought  of  the  sultry  day  at  Surinam  when  they  had 
longed  for  the  "blissful  shores"  of  home.  And  as  the 
parson  made  his  prayer  for  "those  who  go  down  to  the 
sea  in  ships,"  they  pitied  the  poor  fellows  whose  guide- 
post  was  a  compass  as  cheerfully  as  if  they  themselves 
were  to  dare  no  perils  greater  than  the  Big  Channel 
in  the  bay.  Church  over,  the  road  was  aflutter  with 


GENIUS  LOCI  297 

rainbow  color.  And  sunburnt  beaux  in  tight  white 
trousers,  blue  coats,  agonizing  stocks,  and  top-hats 
rakishly  a-tilt,  peered  under  the  arc  of  leghorn  bon- 
nets where  moss-rosebuds  nestled  against  smoothly 
banded  hair,  while  beneath  his  surtout  and  her  man- 
tilla or  pelisse  the  hearts  beat  out  their  mating-tune. 

ill 

ALL  of  us  have  our  land  of  refuge:  for  one  it  is  a 
town,  or  a  house  endeared  by  its  remembered  atmos- 
phere of  simplicity  and  health;  another  needs  but  to 
cross  the  threshold  of  a  room  where  sits  the  being  who 
has  been  the  best  friend  of  every  year;  a  third  has 
only  the  land  of  dreams  to  people  at  his  will.  And  one 
refreshes  the  ideals  of  his  youth,  perhaps,  or  seeks  to 
wipe  out  with  forgetfulness  the  scar  of  some  old  sin; 
others,  faint  with  terror  for  the  fate  of  ships  that  drift 
in  black  seas  of  hate  and  lust,  find  the  comfort  of 
cleared  vision  and  steadier  brain. 

The  nation  has  its  land  of  renewal  in  the  genius  of 
our  fathers.  Those  early  Pilgrims,  the  first  immigrants, 
had  by  nature  the  spirit  of  democracy.  They  recog- 
nized what  one  man  owes  another:  they  were  "tied  to 
all  care  of  each  other's  good."  They  were  prepared  for 
growth  and  change.  With  good  John  Robinson,  they 
kept  an  open  mind,  nor  did  they  believe  that  God  had 
"revealed  his  whole  will  to  them."  "It  is  not  possible," 
they  held,  "that  full  perfection  of  knowledge  should 
break  forth  all  at  once."  For  their  Fundamentals, 
they  took  over  the  best  body  of  law  that  the  time 
afforded,  but  with  no  rigid  mind:  they  adapted  and 


298  OLD  CAPE  COD 

added  to  the  law  of  their  fathers  with  a  flexibility  that 
gave  genuine  freedom  to  men  of  their  day  and  prom- 
ised freedom  to  the  future.  The  laws  they  passed  were 
calculated  to  ensure  a  man's  loyalty,  and  to  help  him 
live  straight.  "Government  exists  that  men  may  live 
in  happy  homes,"  might  have  been  their  dictum.  They 
were  entirely  human:  they  enjoyed  the  free  life  of  the 
open,  and  feasting,  and  the  sober  perfection  of  their 
dress;  they  liked  a  fair  fight  and  no  favor;  they  liked 
best  of  all  a  man's  job,  and  labored  unswervingly  to 
bring  to  pass  their  ideal  of  what  life  should  be.  Their 
feet  were  on  the  ground,  and  they  exulted  in  the  fact 
that  their  vision  reached  beyond  the  clouds.  If  it  be 
true  that  "no  country  can  escape  the  implication  of 
the  ideas  upon  which  it  was  founded,"  it  were  well 
that  our  feet  should  be  set  on  that  same  ground  of 
vigorous  simplicity  and  faith,  our  vision,  though  with 
another  aspect  than  theirs,  reach  above  the  clouds. 
They  passed  on  an  inheritance  of  sane  and  clear  and 
just  thought  that  we  should  do  well  to  use:  that,  and 
belief  in  the  progressive  revelation  of  truth.  And  by 
happy  chance  the  spot  they  chose  for  home  —  New 
England,  Plymouth,  the  dunes  and  meadows  of  the 
Cape  —  typifies  their  very  spirit:  the  homely  beauty, 
the  invigorating  atmosphere,  the  health  of  salt  winds 
and  cleansing  of  the  sea. 


THE  END 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U.S.A. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

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